


Don't Go Dragon My Heart Around

by CydSA



Series: Sterek - Mythteries [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baby Dragon, First Time, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pack Bonding, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CydSA/pseuds/CydSA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles really should not have touched the egg. But he did. So he’s screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go Dragon My Heart Around

**Author's Note:**

> I refuse to accept the Hale pack without Erica, Boyd, Jackson and Peter. And Derek will _always_ be my Alpha, so I’m guessing this falls AU sort of end-season two. But it’s future fic so whatever blows your hair back. I’m in denial. Sue me.
> 
> Alpha read by the always awesome vera6 & beta by my wonderful framedhim. All mistakes are my own.

_“when magic runs wild on the night of the blue moon_  
the wereking who bleeds can be granted a heart’s boon  
but only one wish and it must be a true one  
for blood and wild magic they answer to no-one” 

 

In retrospect, Stiles probably _shouldn’t_ have touched the egg.

Maybe if he’d just let Scott or Isaac, or god forbid, Erica pick it up first, then everything would have been different.

But Stiles had always been a touch-first, suffer-later kind of guy.

****  
Oops, I Did It Egg’ain

The wolves raced through the forest, howling and laughing at the same time. Stiles followed at a slower, more human pace, shaking his head at the noise they were making.

“You all _fail_ at stealth!” he yelled. Then bit his lip when he realized that shouting about not being stealthy wasn’t exactly stealthy.

He kicked at a pile of leaves, frustrated at being left in the dust. Again. He yelped when his toe connected with something hard. His sneakers were not meant to withstand attack by killer stones.

He crouched down to defeat the offending rock and fell back on his ass when he saw that the rock was actually an oval-shaped object that could either be an alien probe or a very large egg. Stiles thought maybe he’d been watching too much SyFy Channel.

He poked at the thing, with a stick, because hey, he wasn’t completely stupid. It didn’t move. So he poked it again, with his finger. A hairline crack appeared on the surface and quickly spread across the entire object. 

“Oh no,” Stiles whispered. “No, no, no. This is going to end badly, and I’m going to die because Derek is going to kill me.” He knew he was somehow going to be blamed for the disaster that was sure to follow. It was his life after all.

“Stiles?” He heard Derek’s shout, and put his hands over the increasingly widening cracks. He thought maybe if he pushed hard enough, his magic might put the thing back together.

“Coming!” he yelled back and tried to get up. His hands were stuck to the surface of the egg. He finally admitted that this was what this thing was and he was in so much shit right now. “Fuck.” 

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice was closer now. Stiles just _knew_ that he was going to be paying for playing with eggs in the woods forever.

“Um,” he said.

Of course Derek could hear his accelerated heartbeat and came crashing into the clearing where Stiles sat attached to an alien probe…egg…thing.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Derek grabbed his hoodie with a slightly claw-y hand and yanked Stiles to his feet. Well, tried to anyway. If Stiles hadn’t been having an internal freak-out, then he’d have laughed at the confused expression on Derek’s face when Stiles didn’t move.

“Um,” Stiles met Derek’s gaze. He wasn’t afraid of Derek. Much. “I may have touched something that may be attached to me. Maybe.” He tried a patented “Stiles smile”, but Derek’s eyebrows lowered even further on his face.

“You always do shit like this,” Derek growled and then tried to pull Stiles away from the object. Stiles did not whimper as he felt the skin on the palm of his hand start peeling off. It was a manly noise of pain.

Derek stopped pulling immediately. “Stiles,” he said.

“It’s amazing just how much meaning you get into one syllable,” Stiles noted as he tried not to scream like a girl. Suddenly he was free, and he tumbled back, staring as the egg, and it was definitely an egg, broke open.

Derek growled and lunged forward. Stiles held up a hand. “No,” he said, sure and firm. Derek stopped as though he’d run into a wall. Stiles realized that he was going to pay later for using his magic against his alpha. 

The nose that peeked out of the shell was a sort of muddy brown. Intrigued, Stiles moved closer, hand reaching out to touch.

“Stiles! Don’t!” Derek was using the Alpha voice but it was as though he was a hundred miles away. The usual urge to obey filtered through his mind, but Stiles was focused on the creature emerging in front of him.

“Hey there,” he murmured as the shell cracked apart and what looked like a large lizard blinked up at him. He grinned at the little dude and looked up at Derek. “Look!” he pointed at the lizard. “It’s just a lizard, Sourwolf.”

Derek was growling, and Stiles frowned at him. “What is your damage, man?” he shook his head and turned back to the lizard.

Who had spread its _wings_.

****

“It’s a fucking dragon, dude!” Scott exclaimed for the four millionth time. 

Stiles met Isaac’s gaze, and they both rolled their eyes in unison. “Thank you, Captain I-Already-Said-This,” Stiles said.

The baby dragon chirped at him. Stiles had decided that it was a girl dragon. He sure as shit wasn’t going to try to look to make sure. She had dried off now, her scales shining dull gold in the moonlight filtering through the trees. 

The wolves were sitting in a circle around Stiles and the dragon. Scott was blatantly dying to touch her, but every time one of them came near, she would puff out a small stream of fire and fingers had been singed already.

Stiles however, she adored. If dragons had eyelashes, she’d have been batting them at him. 

“Imprinting,” Lydia said. She was trying to be cool, but Stiles could see her eyes gleaming with delight. “You’re her baby mama.”

“I’m not a baby mama,” Stiles said automatically. He looked down at the dragon perched on his knee. “Shit.”

“How do these things always happen to you?” Derek asked. Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself. “That was rhetorical,” Derek lowered his eyebrows of doom. Stiles shut his mouth

The dragon…dragonette?.. narrowed her multi-colored eyes at Derek and squeaked a defiant chirp. Stiles nudged her with his finger. “Go you!” he crooned. “You don’t take no shit from the mean alpha werewolf.”

Derek growled, deep and angry. It rumbled through the forest like a tsunami. The wolves in the circle dropped to their bellies, whimpering. Scott was the only one who glared at Derek. He still had authority issues with Derek, years later. It had made Derek a better alpha even though he would never admit it, Stiles knew.

“Don’t be a dick,” Stiles pointed his finger at Derek. “You’re scaring her!”

Derek snorted and held out a hand. “Come,” he ordered. Stiles wondered just who he was speaking to. The dragon flapped its wings and hopped onto Derek’s outstretch palm.

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “Dragon-thief!”

The dragon puffed out some smoke and nuzzled Derek’s hand.

“Oh my god,” Isaac breathed. “You’re the dad!” His eyes were wide with delight as he looked at Derek.

Stiles scowled at Derek and waved his hands impatiently. “C’mon, wolf-man, give her back.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles swore that the dragon did the exact same thing. “If she wants to come back to you, then she will.”

Stiles could literally _feel_ his face crumple. Of course a dragon would think a werewolf would be a way cooler parental figure than a weak little human. He got to his feet. “I’m gonna head back out now,” he mumbled. “You guys do your wolfy thing without me.” 

He started back towards his Jeep. Life just fucking sucked sometimes. The one time he’d found something that was pure and new and his, figured it would end up being part of the wolf-pack. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and ignored the silence that followed him like a scream.

****

“Nice going, asshole,” Scott scrambled to his feet and stared down at Derek with his lip curled. “Way to be a dick without even trying. You should totally write that book.” He took off after Stiles, calling for him to wait up.

Derek swallowed hard and met the accusing gazes of his wolves. “It was just supposed to be a joke,” he muttered. Isaac’s big eyes were tragically sad and Lydia looked like she wanted to eviscerate him. Even stoic Boyd looked as though he’d smelled something bad.

“Ha ha,” Lydia intoned. “You’re hilarious.” She stood up and brushed off her skirt. “That’s not how a true leader behaves.” She spun on her heel, Jackson hurrying after her, talking to her quietly.

The dragon made a pitiful sound, and Derek startled, staring down at her. He’d almost forgotten her existence. She was looking to where Stiles had vanished and her wings drooped.

Derek felt his shoulders go tight. “Go after him then,” he grumbled. “I don’t care.” He was totally lying and every one of his wolves knew it.

She looked up at him, eyes whirling like kaleidoscopes and far too knowing for something that was barely an hour old. Her snort was derisive, Derek was sure of it. She launched herself into the air and headed after Stiles and his little entourage. Derek looked at Erica, Boyd and Isaac. “Sure you don’t want to go and make sure Stiles is okay?” 

Erica smirked. “Nah,” she said. “We’re on alpha duty.” She looked at her nails. “Someone has to make sure you don’t kill yourself for making Stiles sad.”

Derek snarled at her and shifted, taking off in the opposite direction of the dragon and the tangible, entangling, _human_ emotions that made him weak. The others quickly gave chase, yipping at his heels as they made their way deeper into the forest.

Derek didn’t feel guilty. At all.

****

I’m So Egg’cited

Stiles heard Scott come up next to him. “Hey dude,” Scott bumped his shoulder. “Ignore Derek. He was just being Derek.”

Stiles heaved a sigh. Pity parties were so much better alone. “The dragon probably thought Derek was cooler than me.”

“Dude,” Scott stared at him. “You are _so_ much cooler than Derek.” 

Before Stiles could remind Scott of his distinct lack of hairy-at-full-moon abilities, he felt something land on his shoulder. The dragon chirped in his ear, soft and sweet . Stiles totally knew it was an apology.

He lifted a hand to scratch the small head, and she butted her skull into his palm. “So Derek isn’t your dad then?” he asked, trying not to be smug. He saw Blue Betty’s outline up ahead and forged on, the dragon’s claws stinging a little as she dug in.

She made another small noise and curled into the curve of his neck. She growled a warning when Scott stepped too close but settled down when Stiles stroked her back. 

“How come she’s so pissy with me?” Scott’s puppy eyes were out in full force as he looked at Stiles. “I’m like your bro, bro.” 

Stiles shrugged the shoulder the dragon wasn’t sleeping on. “Not a clue,” he said. “I’m thinking that research will be needed.” He opened the car door and maneuvered himself behind the wheel without jostling his new friend.

Scott climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep. “But I’m awesome,” he reminded Stiles.

“You are indeed made of awesome, dude, but maybe dragons are like dogs, you know, one person animals?” Stiles knew he was rambling but the puppy eyes were lethal weapons.

Scott made an unconvinced face, but he didn’t try to argue anymore. Stiles waited and watched as Lydia and Jackson came out of the woods, waved at him and then climbed into Jackson’s Porsche. You didn’t leave your friends. Pack Rule One.

They headed back into town, Jackson flashing his lights as he turned off towards Lydia’s place. When Stiles pulled up in front of Scott’s house, he turned the Jeep off. 

“What are you going to tell your dad?” Scott asked.

Stiles sighed. “You know, I thought the werewolf thing was a tough one to deal with.” He scratched the dragon’s head softly. “Do you think he’ll buy it being a flying lizard?”

Scott snorted. “Your dad doesn’t believe anything you tell him these days, man.”

Stiles knew that this was the truth. “Well, lying to him for two years wasn’t really ever going to instill faith in me,” he said. It still stung that his dad looked at him in suspicion every time he mentioned going out. But then he remembered the shock and disappointment on his face when he’d realized that Stiles had been hiding huge shit from him.

“So, introduce her to your dad without him finding out some other way,” Scott suggested. “Rip off the Band-Aid.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” The dragon nudged at his chin and Stiles obediently carried on scratching her. “I should totally give her a name though, right?”

Scott was used to Stiles by now. He didn’t even blink at the change of topic. “Maybe she knows her own name.”

“She’s a baby!” Stiles tried to peer at the dragon who had tucked her head behind Stiles’ neck, under the slightly longer hair at his nape. “She doesn’t know anything yet.”

Scott’s face was slightly sour. “She knows how to fly, how to blow smoke, how to set werewolf fingers on fire,” he pointed out. 

“Huh,” Stiles pursed his lips. “That sounds almost possible.”

Scott climbed out of Blue Betty and looked back at Stiles. “You should call Derek,” he said.

Stiles barely refrained from a snarl. “ _He_ needs to apologize to _me_.” He still felt the punch of Derek’s actions.

Scott looked at him. “Derek behaved like a dick,” he agreed. “But that is the Derek we know. You are like the zip-tie that binds us, man. We need you to be okay with the Alpha.”

Stiles stared at him. “What the fuck?” he asked, mystified. “I’m just the human pack member with a spark of magic and nothing much else to offer.”

Scott leaned in. “Whether you know it or not, you’re important. Your happiness is important. Derek fucked up but we both know he’s not going to make the first move.”

“That makes no sense,” Stiles thought somehow Scott had smoked some mountain ash. “I’m not anything special.” 

“You’re very special,” Scott insisted. “And you’re the only one who’ll be able to fix this.” He stepped back then, all the serious intensity gone from his face as though it had never been there. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Stiles nodded dumbly as he watched Scott disappear into his house. “What the actual fuck?” he whispered.

He decided that he didn’t feel like translating werewolf tonight and headed for home. He pulled the Jeep into the garage and climbed out, taking a deep breath. Of course his dad was home. It was time to face the music.

“Nakakem Baleful-Claw,” sounded in his head. He whirled around in the garage, karate-chopping wildly, and unseating the dragon at the same time. She made an angry puff of smoke and lifted herself off his shoulder, waving her wings slowly, keeping in his line of sight. 

Stiles was more worried about the unknown entity who’d just spoken to him. **In. His. Mind.** “Who’s there?” 

“My name is Nakakem Baleful-Claw,” the voice said again, and it sounded like water and air and fire wrapped up in earth. Stiles slowly raised his head to meet the dragon’s gaze.

“You’re talking to me in my brain?” he asked.

“You are my bonded,” she told him. Stiles watched her come nearer. “You will always hear me.”

Stiles stared at her. “Bonded?” 

“When your hand touched my egg, you became a part of me and I of you.” She sounded as though she was explaining this to a very slow child.

“But how?” Stiles asked.

“My kind has always been bound to a mortal,” she explained. “It would seem that in this lifetime, _you_ are my mortal.”

Stiles was sure he could hear a laugh in her voice. “But I’m just…” he stumbled over the words, “I’m just me.”

“Mate of the wereking is a special title,” she insisted.

Stiles found that he had to sit down. 

On the ground. 

Very quickly. 

“Mate?” he squeaked. “I’m not anybody’s mate!”

Nakakem dropped down, landing with careful precision on his knee. “You were not aware of this?” 

Stiles shook his head. “Derek hates me.” He stopped. “Well, that’s not really true. He doesn’t _hate_ me. It’s more of an intense dislike coupled with severe intolerance and desire to commit grievous bodily harm.”

Nakakem tipped her head to the side, and Stiles wanted to ‘aww’ at her. “Your Alpha is your mate, Stiles. He knows it as does your pack.” Stiles almost choked on his own spit.

“What!?” He gaped at her. He knew it was unattractive but there was no other reaction that would do. “No really, what?”

The dragon sighed at him, nostrils flaring with a small flame. “Your lack of awareness does you no credit.”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “You’re just a baby and I’m your bonded.” He narrowed his eyes, peering at her. “How come you speak so well?”

Nakakem seemed to manage Stiles’ mental jumps as easily as Scott did. “This is not my first birth,” she said. “Unlike mortals and wolves, dragon-kind does not forget the lives they’ve lived.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. “That’s kinda awesome and awful at the same time.” He couldn’t imagine it. “So how many lives have _you_ lived then?”

Nakakem’s narrowed _her_ eyes at him. “It is impolite to ask a dragon her age.”

Stiles grinned. “I’m a curious kinda guy.”

“Stiles?” His dad’s voice came from the door leading from the garage into the house. “Who are you talking to?”

“Um,” Stiles said.

Nakakem lifted off his knee and perched back on his shoulder. “Your father is a warrior,” she sounded impressed.

Stiles clambered to his feet, oddly proud. “He’s one of the good guys,” he agreed.

“Do I need to call Melissa to arrange a psych consult?” his dad asked, stepping further into the garage.

“Nope,” Stiles replied. “Although after this I think maybe you might need one. Or an entire bottle of Jack.” He took a deep breath and stepped into the light.

His father’s jaw dropped as he saw the dragon. “That’s a…”

“Lizard with wings?” Stiles offered weakly. Nakakem’s tail swished angrily down his back, obviously unimpressed with being labeled a lizard. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Dragon,” his dad looked a whole lot paler than usual.

“Surprise,” Stiles attempted jazz hands but failed because…dragon!

“Her name is Nakakem Baleful-Claw,” Stiles supplied helpfully, as though knowing her name would somehow make her actual existence easier.

“Uh-huh,” his dad spoke slowly. “Hi?” He sort of half-lifted his hand to wave at Nakakem but stopped before he actually did it.

Nakakem bowed her head. “Greetings, sire of my bonded,” she said in Stiles’ head.

“She says hi,” Stiles was not going to mention the bonded thing because that meant he’d start thinking about the mate thing and he was totally not ready to think about that.

“Stiles, why do you have a dragon on your shoulder?”

“It’s a funny story,” Stiles began, herding his dad back into the house, ignoring the elephant in the room, or rather the dragon on his shoulder. He needed food for this.

****

You Are The Only Egg’ception

Stiles headed up to his room after explaining just how he’d come to be the best bud of a newly hatched dragon. He’d tried to avoid the voice in his head that kept insisting about things like bonds and mates and destiny, but Nakakem was proving to be a persistent little shit.

The Sheriff had patted his shoulder a few times during the story, and Stiles was almost convinced that his dad was all cool with the extra dose of wacky that had come down on him tonight. He supposed that after werewolves, kanimas and darachs, a dragon wasn’t so scary. Especially a gorgeous baby one like Nakakem.

“I am still not telling my dad that you are my bonded dragon,” he muttered to her as he closed his room door behind him. “And as for Dere….holy fucking shitballs!” He barely managed not to scream when he saw Derek sitting on his bed, staring at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he hissed. “Do you want me to die young because you have no idea how to use an actual door?”

Derek looked at Nakakem and sighed. “I came to find out if you and the dragon were okay.” He sounded subdued, slightly less angry and serial killer-y than usual.

Nakakem launched herself off Stiles’ shoulder and flew to land on Derek’s. From the expression on Derek’s face, she was probably introducing herself to him via brain-speak. Stiles went cold when he realized that she was probably telling Derek about their so-called bond. “Fuck.”

He flailed his hands around, trying to get her attention, but she had locked eyes with Derek and was ignoring him. Then the tips of Derek’s ears went red as the rest of his face went white, and Stiles just knew. He spun around, wrenched his door open and raced to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and locking it as an extra precaution.

He sank down, back against the door and tried to control his breathing. His couple of hours with Nakakem had shown that she wasn’t exactly the most tactful of mythological beasts, and god only knew what she’d told Derek. It probably meant that Stiles was going to have to move states, possibly even to Canada.

His ‘thing’ for Derek had been happily one-sided for as long as Stiles could remember. Even when Derek had been the guy everyone thought had killed his own sister, Stiles had fallen asleep with his hand wrapped around his cock, dreaming that it had been Derek jacking him off in the early hours of the morning.

Once he’d really gotten to know Derek though, the crush had grown exponentially worse. It was bad enough when Stiles had been terrified that Derek was going to rip his face off and feed it to him, but once Stiles realized that Derek would die for any one of them, without hesitation, Stiles had been completely gone.

Derek was everything that Stiles wanted to be and everything that Stiles wanted. Apart from the turning extra hairy around full moon and anger management issues of course. Besides that though, Derek took care of his pack. 

Derek gave Erica just enough attention that she didn’t feel like she had to beat them all up to get him to notice her. But not so much that she became the girl who had thrown herself at him as though sex was a bargaining chip.

He would see Isaac sitting alone, eyes blank and spacy and would put a big hand on his neck and pull him into a hug. Isaac would sigh into Derek’s chest and just stay there until whatever awful memory passed on.

Derek would take Boyd out on runs alone, disappearing for hours and neither of them would say anything about where they went or what they did, but Boyd would always be calmer, more content, and it would filter down to Erica and Isaac and gentle their _angry_ hearts as well.

Scott and Derek spent hours going through werewolf lore, Derek teaching Scott the things he’d known were part of him since he’d been born. Scott would moan about not wanting to be a werewolf and Derek would point out yet another cool benefit and Scott would grin over at Stiles as though he’d won the lottery.

Lydia would fight with Jackson and go to Derek, bitch at him until he would train her, until she could kick the crap out of any man who wasn’t a werewolf. Then he’d bring Jackson over, forbid him to use his strength and let Lydia beat the rage out of her.

Then he’d let Jackson take him on, fully wolfed out and fight with tooth and nail and claw until they were both bleeding and exhausted. Derek would sit at the top of the stairs and watch Lydia go to Jackson, help him up and take him into the house to clean his wounds and allow him to beg her forgiveness.

Derek showed Allison the weakest parts of the wolf, let her practice on him with blade and bow until he looked like a pincushion and her aim was true. Stiles would wince as they would stop, and Allison would put her weapons down and patch Derek up with the care of a mother for a child.

Peter was the only one that Derek didn’t coddle. It was because Peter was family and let Derek shout and throw things and rip at him until whatever fury had built up was gone. And then Peter would sob in Derek’s arms, whispering broken apologies for the murder of his niece and the damage that he’d done.

And Stiles. Derek treated Stiles like pack. He didn’t let Stiles pull the puny human card unless Stiles was hurt or broken or sad. Then Derek would sit next to Stiles’ bed, hand heavy on Stiles’ arm or leg, and watch him breathe until he slept. Derek would draw out pain until he was visibly in agony and Stiles would yell at him for being a martyr and Derek would sleep beside him, on top of the covers and leave before his dad came in.

Stiles felt his heart pick up speed. “Oh fuck,” he groaned into his knees. He was completely, stupid, bug-fuck crazy in love with Derek. He was going to die, either of humiliation or of terror. His breath shortened and suddenly he was gasping for air, pulse rate ratcheting up. This was looking to be a full-blown freak-out and that usually meant a panic attack and passing out and…

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was very soft outside the bathroom door. Stiles sucked in short, hard breaths, trying to get the impeding attack to stop. 

“Stiles,” Derek spoke again, this time using the Alpha voice and almost immediately it made Stiles calmer. That had been another weird thing once Derek had accepted Stiles as pack. Not only was Stiles impelled to obey orders, even though he hardly ever did, but Derek’s voice could sever the attack at its root. It was as though hearing Derek’s voice made the panic stop.

“I’m okay,” Stiles gasped, knowing that Derek could hear just how _not_ okay he was. “Gimme a minute, alright?”

He heard Derek move away and dropped his face to his knees, heart rate dropping slowly and steadily as be managed to get his breathing under control again.

“Your mate worries,” Nakakem told him. “He does not like when you are in pain.”

Stiles’ laugh was slightly bitter. “He’s probably figuring out ways to kill me. And he’s not my mate.”

“Stiles!” Derek’s shout told Stiles that he’d heard him and he winced.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

“Get out here, right now,” Derek ordered, and Stiles was on his feet before he knew what had happened. He scowled at the now-open door, glaring at Derek.

“Dude,” he stepped back towards his room, and Derek moved backwards, keeping Stiles in his sights. “You are not the boss of me.”

Derek just raised an eyebrow as Stiles glared at him. “Only in wolfy things,” he amended. “In wolfiness, you are totally the boss of everything. Just not in other shit.”

“You’re not having an anxiety attack anymore,” Derek pointed out. 

Just then Nakakem landed on his shoulder with a small thud. Stiles looked at her. “You’ve grown,” he observed.

“Our kind grows swiftly,” Nakakem agreed.

Stiles had a moment of alarm. “Just how big _do_ you get?” he asked.

The dragon lifted one small clawed foot and examined it carefully. “I’m not the largest of my kind,” she hedged.

“Seriously,” Stiles poked her chest and she nipped at his finger. “How big?”

A bristling dragon was pretty entertaining, Stiles thought. “I am large enough to be able to protect you in the event of battle,” she told him.

“So, a horse? An elephant? A whale?” Stiles persisted. 

Derek was laughing, and Stiles looked at him. “Can you hear her too?” he asked.

“Yes,” Derek said. “And I think she is a size queen.”

Just like that, Stiles’ brain went to a bad, bad place and he flushed. “Uh…” 

Derek blushed too, and if Stiles wasn’t so busy looking for a hole to climb into, he’d have thought it was adorable. “Uh,” Derek said.

“I will be a little larger than one of your sheep, although I could surely eat one on my own if I wished it,” Nakakem admitted.

Stiles stared at her. “I thought dragons were supposed to be big motherfuckers.”

Her eyes whirled in annoyance. Stiles got a little dizzy. “Size matters not,” her nose went way up in the air. Stiles choked a little and didn’t look at Derek. “Now, I am going to hunt for my dinner in the woods. I am hoping that upon my return, the two of you will have amended all misconceptions about your relationship.”

“You’re pretty bossy for something I could squash like a bug,” Derek told her.

She snorted a small stream of fire. “Please, the day a wolf manages to kill a dragon is the day the North Pole becomes the South.”

Stiles opened his mouth to tell her that actually, this was an actual thing, but she flew out of the window without another word.

Stiles carefully sat down on the chair in front of his desk and watched as Derek sat on the bed facing him. “So, I’m guessing you know that my little ‘episode’ in the bathroom had something to do with the fact that Nakakem seems to think that we’re mates.” He tried to laugh, but it stuck in his throat like a thorn.

“Yes,” Derek nodded, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Stiles was genuinely confused. “You can’t help it if a baby dragon thinks I’m the mom and you’re the dad.”

Derek lifted his head. “I’m sorry for how I behaved badly earlier,” he said with an effort, obviously trying to explain himself. “With Nakakem.”

Stiles gaped. “Scott told me you wouldn’t apologize,” he breathed. “He’s never going to believe this.”

Derek scowled. “I really wish you wouldn’t tell Scott every little thing that occurs to you.”

“But he’s my best bro,” Stiles protested. “We share. I mean, if you knew the crap I had to listen to when he first started going out with Allison.” Stiles groaned. “God, every little word, head tilt, smile…he shared it _all_.” He realized that he still had a few issues with the whole Scott and Allison version of Romeo and Juliet.

Derek smiled, a small upward tic of one side of his mouth, but Stiles could tell he was practically giggling. He liked that he could make Derek smile. It had been his own personal mission for a while now. “You’re an idiot,” Derek told Stiles but there was a fondness in his voice that made something in Stiles stutter.

“It’s a gift,” Stiles agreed and then looked at Derek, suddenly wanting to be serious. “Why did you do it?” he asked.

“Call the dragon to me?” Derek asked, and Stiles nodded. “I was jealous.”

“Jeez dude, that’s pretty petty of you, I mean I found her and she connected to me first, so being jealous of basically a flying lizard is…”

“I was jealous of the dragon,” Derek interrupted.

Stiles could literally feel his mouth hanging open unattractively. “What?” he squeaked and winced. “Sorry, what?” he amended, hoping that he hadn’t burst Derek’s eardrums with his dolphin impression.

“Stiles, I’ve known you were my mate pretty much from the moment I met you,” Derek just looked tired now, weighed down and sad. Stiles hated it.

“I was sixteen and full of shit,” Stiles said.

Derek’s mouth quirked a little again. “The only thing that has changed is your age,” he said. Stiles pulled a face at him.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Stiles asked. “I mean, have you seen you? You could have anyone.”

The laugh that erupted was bitter and mean. “And my relationship track record is so sterling,” Derek spat. “God, Stiles, do you have any idea how difficult it has been not to tell you?”

“Hey, I wasn’t stopping you,” Stiles felt it was necessary to point out this fact. “It would have been a nice change from the wall-bashing and door-shoving.”

Derek winced. “I sometimes let myself lose control, just a little, just to touch you.” Stiles boggled. “It calms me down, makes it harder for the wolf to do damage.”

Stiles was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Derek considered their little Stiles-meet-hard-surface tête-à-têtes as some sort of werewolfy foreplay. “So that was you trying to get in my pants?” he blurted.

“No!” Derek’s eyes were a little wild. “I hate biology,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily.

Stiles felt his stomach twist. “So we’re only mates because of biology?” he asked. “No real interest in the actual real person?”

“Not exactly,” Derek looked at him. “but I thought you’d be happier about it just being a biological thing,” he said. “I mean, you’ve been in love with Lydia since…”

“Lydia is not a reality I can ever have!” Stiles said sharply. “She and Jackson are like MFEO.”

“What?” Derek shook his head. “I swear, sometimes you don’t even speak English.”

“Meant for each other, you fuckwit,” Stiles told him, suddenly not caring that he might actually be yanking on the tail of a beast that could kill him with one bite. “Lydia hasn’t been part of my plan since Jackson became a werewolf.”

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Derek said. “Just because biology makes you my mate, doesn’t mean I’ll force you to have sex with me.”

Derek using the “S” word while talking to Stiles made his brain shut down for a few seconds. 

“Stiles?” Derek peered at him. “Are you okay?” It was as though he was talking from space for a minute.

“Uh-huh,” Stiles wheezed and waved a hand at Derek. “You need to give me more info on the mate thing before our scaled baby comes back and starts going all Parent Trap on us.”

Derek stared at him. “I have no idea what the hell you are talking about,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Not that there’s anything new about that.”

Stiles made a determined effort not to think about sex with Derek. The fact that Derek kept sniffing at him while he turned on his research mojo told him that he’d been spectacularly unsuccessful. Werewolves were the actual _worst_.

****

Everyth’Egg’s Not Lost

Stiles startled awake with his face smashed to his keyboard and Nakakem chirping in his ear. He sat up and looked around and saw that Derek had made himself quite comfortable in his bed. Asshole. 

“You and the wereking seem to be more comfortable with each other,” Nakakem noted.

Stiles glared at her. “No thanks to you for dropping a bombshell and then running away like a baby.”

Nakakem’s eyes spun in green and gold spirals, and Stiles swore that her toothy little mouth curved upwards. “I was actually hoping to find you together,” she indicated the bed where Derek snored a little. It was not adorable dammit. Snoring was annoying. Fuck.

“We’re not like that! I mean…” Stiles shook his head, and then his entire body. “We’re going to put that to one side for now,” he stopped and looked at her. “Hey, you’ve grown again!”

She made a sort of girly looking blink with her eyes and nodded. “I will reach my full size in about seven days,” she said. “Your forest has more than enough to keep me well-fed.”

Stiles felt a little queasy. “Don’t go and decimate the entire bunny population,” he waved a hand at Derek. “The puppies need to eat too.”

“We do not eat rabbits,” Derek’s voice made Stiles wobble on his chair and barely keep upright.

“Jeez Louise!” Stiles yelped. “You’re like ninja!wolf.”

Derek’s face barely moved as he merely raised one eyebrow. Stiles wondered where his eyebrows went when he changed. “Where do your eyebrows go when you go all ‘grr..arghh’?” Styles asked, making claws with his fingers to demonstrate, just in case Derek didn’t get his meaning.

Derek’s brow furrowed then cleared, and he leveled a glare at Stiles who wondered exactly where he’d put his brain-to-mouth filter. “Never mind!” he said, flapping a hand at Derek. “That’s obviously only a need wolf to know thing.”

“Stiles.” Stiles shut up. That particular low growl made every hair on his body stand up. And other parts of his body too. Stiles groaned mentally. This was the suckiest thing ever. Now that the mate thing had been put out there, Stiles was having a really hard time shoving it back into the black hole it had emerged from. Hard. Dammit, he was going to have to learn a new language, something like Urdu or Tagalog that would make it impossible to find hidden sexual meaning in every single word.

“You should take your mate to yourself,” Nakakem told Stiles, drawing his attention back to her, but he looked at Derek and could see that she was telling him the same thing.

“Stop that!” Stiles ordered. “God, it’s like having some sort of scaly matchmaker.”

Derek leveled his patented “alpha” glare on Nakakem. “More like a scaly pimp,” he said.

Stiles felt a little faint. “It is _way_ too early to start with this line of conversation.”

Derek and Nakakem seemed to be having a stare-off. Stiles got dizzy just watching her eyes spin and whirl. He didn’t know how Derek could look at her and not blink. Super Wolf. 

“If you do not wish to copulate, then perhaps I can suggest another activity?” Nakakem said after a long moment of very uncomfortable silence. She and Derek seemed to have come to some sort of compromise. Stiles hadn’t been included in the conversation.

“Copu…what?” Stiles could actually feel his eyes bug out. Way to look your best to the dude you’re into, he thought, semi-hysterical.

“It means…” Nakakem started.

“I know what the fuck it means!” Stiles shrieked and then slapped his hand over his eyes. “Both of you need to leave,” he said, struggling to find some semblance of calm. “Right now.”

“But…” Nakakem began.

“Seriously, go with daddy wolf and just leave me alone for a while, please.” Stiles wasn’t proud of the desperate begging in his voice, but the past twenty-four hours or so had been even more surreal than usual. And in Beacon Hills that was saying something.

Derek was seriously growling as he crawled out of the window. As though somehow this was all Stiles’ fault. Which, technically, if you were being picky, it sort of was, with the egg touching and the dragon bonding. 

He needed sleep, and he wasn’t going to get it with Tweedledum and Tweedledummer in the room.

He closed his window on an indignant Nakakem. 

****

Deaton was a cryptic asshole. Stiles had no idea why all animals seemed to flock to him like Disney cartoons. Still, if it was weird supernatural shit that needed explaining, then Deaton was the go-to-guy. Which was why Stiles knocked on the vet’s door at ass o’clock the next morning.

He glared. “So you’ve known about the mate thing for how long and said nothing because..?”

Deaton’s hum was amused. Stiles hated that fucking shit. “Use your words, doc,” he ordered.

Deaton raised an eyebrow at Stiles. It said many, many things, chief among them was, ‘you talking to me?’ and Stiles shut his mouth on his next demand.

“So, as I was saying,” Deaton said in his usual serene tone, “Derek as the Alpha has a duty to the pack to ensure that the mate he chooses is worthy.”

“Hey!” Stiles protested. “I’m totally worthy! I’m like the worthiest of worthy things.” He stopped and decided that if he continued with that particular line of conversation, he’d look even more like an idiot. “Uh,” he finished intelligently.

“The dragon, I would assume, is the first of the Trials,” Deaton said. 

“Trials?” Stiles squeaked, in a totally manly way. 

Deaton’s calm gaze met his. “Yes, Stiles. The Trials of Sodalis.”

Stiles stared at him. “The what of who?”

Deaton kept looking at him and Stiles flapped his hands. “I can’t speak vet!” he yelled.

“It’s Latin, Stiles,” Deaton told him, only slight reprimand in his tone. “Sodalis means mate in Latin.”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak and then shut it when he realized that he actually had nothing to say.

Deaton’s mouth quirked, practically a full-out guffaw for the bastard, “The ability to care for young and wield magic is the first Trial for a future mate of an Alpha.”

Stiles held up a hand. “Wait, what?” He shook his head. “Are you saying that I’m supposed to be a magical dragon’s baby-mama?” He resolutely refused to hear Erica’s cackle of glee in his mind.

Deaton sighed and rubbed at the crease between his eyes. Stiles knew that sigh and that rub. It meant that Deaton was getting ready to break even _more_ bad news. “Much of the lore is handed down from Alpha to Alpha and the Emissaries have had to collect whatever information they can find. The Trials are a way for imbalance to be redressed.”

Stiles sat down abruptly. “Imbalance? I don’t…”

Deaton took a seat opposite him, fingers clasped in front of him. “Derek is a very young Alpha, and his pack is even younger. There needs to be some sort of cohesion. Nature is trying to fix that.”

Stiles frowned. “But we’re doing pretty great now,” he started counting off on his fingers, “Scott’s part of the pack. Erica, Boyd and Isaac totally have their full moon wolfiness under control. I’m learning how to use my spark. Even Derek is getting better at being the Alpha. What more do we need?”

“A pack is only as strong as the bond it maintains,” Deaton said. “And a mated Alpha always has a stronger bond with the pack.”

“But why me?” Stiles squeaked. “I’m human and…” he held out his hands to show the severe lack of boobage. “Not Derek’s type!” he finished.

“”Well…” Deaton smiled and Stiles went cold. “Historically, werewolves have been known to produce young whether male or female.”

Stiles went a little woozy for a moment. “Babies?” he shrieked. “I can have puppies?” 

“Please don’t shatter the glass, Stiles,” Deaton’s tone was mild.

Stiles practically collapsed. “I don’t want puppies,” he moaned.

“So being Derek’s mate isn’t a problem then?” Deaton asked, appearing interested. Deaton being interested was so not ever a good thing.

Stiles sat up quickly. “No!” He flailed a little. “I mean, no I don’t want to be Derek’s mate!”

“Lie,” a voice said behind him. Stiles spun around to see Isaac smirking at him.

“You shut your mouth!” Stiles wagged a shaking finger at him. “I’m not lying.”

“Lie,” Isaac said again and shook his head. “I’d have thought you’d be better at lying after all this time around us wolves.”

Stiles scrubbed at his eyes. He wasn’t sure whether he was hoping to go blind or that Isaac would simply have vanished if he opened them again. He pried one eye open. Isaac was still standing there, laughing his ass off at him. “I hate you,” he told Isaac.

“Eh,” Isaac shrugged and sat down at Stiles’ feet, resting his head against Stiles’ knee. “Another lie.” 

Stiles dragged his fingers through the tawny curls at his knee and then tugged them a little. “Don’t say a fucking word to Derek about this,” he warned.

Isaac rubbed his face against Stiles’ knee. “I won’t lie to him,” he said. “But I won’t tell him anything unless he asks.”

Stiles knew that was about as good as he was going to get. He looked back at Deaton who was watching them with that perpetually amused half-smile on his face. “What?”

“You seem to be very comfortable in the role of care-giver already,” he said and nodded towards Isaac. “The sign of a good mate.”

“Ugh!” Stiles shoved at Isaac who snorted a laugh and lay even more heavily against him. There was no way Stiles was going to be able to move him. He folded his arms across his chest and leveled a glare at Isaac’s curly head. It would appear that his magical ability to set things alight with his mind wasn’t working today.

“Stiles,” Deaton paused and waited for Stiles to stop trying to kill Isaac with his brain. “The Trials of Sodalis involve three tests.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, yeah, first one was to prove I could be a good parent by magic.” He tugged at Isaac’s hair. “I’m guessing I passed?”

Deaton shrugged. “The outcome is only determined at the end of the trials.”

“Is this going to be dangerous?” Stiles asked, a whine in his voice. “Because shit with werewolves tends to end up with me almost dying on a fairly regular basis.”

Deaton watched him and Isaac. “The trials were created to test a potential mate’s worthiness, not endanger them,” he said. “What use would a damaged or dead mate be?”

Stiles’ shoulders drooped. “Fine, so I won’t die. Still doesn’t mean I’m happy about being part of this whole shebang with no prior consultation. I mean, I could still have been in love with Lydia and then everything would have been so very, very awkward. Or maybe there could have been a threesome.” His brain melted at the vaguest thought of Lydia and Derek naked with him.

“Dude,” Isaac protested, wrinkling his nose. “Ugh!”

Stiles poked at Isaac’s cheek. “Stop with the sniffing then.”

Isaac shuddered. “I really don’t want to know what you were thinking about when _that_ happened.”

Stiles smacked Isaac on the head. “Rude!” Deaton cleared his throat. “Oh, ahaha,” he laughed weakly, feeling every surface go read. “Sorry about that.” He sat up a little straighter. “So, hit me, Doc, what are the Trials of Sodalis?”

Deaton paused, looking at Isaac. “Are you comfortable with Isaac being here?” 

Stiles could feel every muscle in Isaac’s body go tight and hard. He patted Isaac’s head. “Down boy,” he said with a grin, yelping when a claw poked him behind his knee. “Isaac is pack, and he obviously knows about my thing for Derek because he’s a creeper just like his Alpha, so I guess it’s okay.”

Isaac stared up at Stiles with an expression of such pleasure that Stiles felt awkward. “No chick flick moments,” he pointed at finger at Isaac who grinned wide and bright.

“Very well,” Deaton steepled his fingers. Stiles wondered idly if there was some kind of dickwad school that Deaton and Peter had gone to because they both had the same fucking annoying habits. “The Trials of Sodalis involve the three foundations of a true mating.”

“Wait, hold up,” Stiles held up the hand that wasn’t petting Isaac. “What’s a true mating?”

Deaton sighed. “If you would stop interrupting…”

“Fine,” Stiles sat back and started plaiting Isaac’s hair. It was time for the wolf-kids to go to the hair-dresser again. “I’m all ears and no mouth.”

Deaton’s eyebrow arched. “Would that were true,” he said. Stiles barely fought the urge to stick his tongue out. “So, the three foundations of a true mating are caring for the young, providing for the pack and satisfying the Alpha.”

Isaac made a sort of screeching sound when Stiles pulled out a chunk of hair after the last one.

“Satisfying the who?” Stiles could actually feel his heart trying to push its way out of his chest. Isaac bit him. “Ow!” He glared down and saw that he’d yanked out roots. “Sorry man,” he said and then stared back at Deaton. “Are you telling me the Trials are about finding Derek the perfect wife?”

****

Stiles ignored Isaac as he stormed out. “Fucking Sourwolf and his fucking needs! Who the fuck thinks about my fucking needs?” He waved his hands around as though someone would give him the answer out of thin air. “Since when is it okay to get tested for something you actually didn’t know you were getting tested for?” He spun to glare at Isaac. “I swear, you say a word…” He could feel the shaking starting, and he wanted to get home before the panic attack hit in earnest. 

“Come on, man,” Isaac begged him, holding his hands up when Stiles flinched away from him. “Your heartbeat has gone nuclear, you need to calm down.”

Stiles fell against the door of the Jeep and sucked at the air. The black and starry dark was encroaching at the corner of his vision. Stiles knew it wouldn’t be long before the shaking would begin in his bones. “I can’t, Isaac, I can’t. Did you hear what he said?” He flapped a hand towards the vet’s office and gasped. “Sex, Isaac! Sex with Derek is in my future!” 

Deaton’s words still rang in his ears. “The second trial is about providing for the pack. You feed them all the time, but I think it may involve a hunt on your part. As this is ancient lore, I’m sure fresh meat is what is required.”

“But I don’t want to be a mate!” Stiles protested. “How can this whole thing kick in without my permission?”

Deaton shrugged. “Perhaps there is a little more to your feelings about Derek than even _you_ know,” he suggested.

“I know _exactly_ how I feel about Derek,” Stiles yelled. “Sure he’s hot like the sun, but he’s an asshole who shoves me around all the fucking time!” 

He was lost in the memory until he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Stiles, chill out, man, please,” Isaac’s words made Stiles look at him. He took a quick look around the parking lot outside the vet’s offices and was relieved to see that no-one else was there.

“I can’t have sex with Derek!” he hissed. Isaac was a little pale and wild-eyed. Stiles didn’t even want to think about how crazy his own eyes were looking.

“Why not?” Stiles shrieked when he heard Derek’s question behind him.

He clutched at his chest and stumbled back into Isaac. “My god, you are the creepiest creeper that ever creeped. Crept. Fuck it,” he pointed a finger at Derek. “How much of that did you hear?” He didn’t bother asking _which_ conversation because Derek had either heard everything Deaton had told them or he’d only heard Stiles’ last comment and either way it felt like the end of the fucking world.

“Go home,” Derek ordered Isaac, who looked insultingly relieved that he was not needed.

Isaac redeemed himself just a sliver when he looked at Stiles. “You going to be okay?” he asked, genuine concern on his face.

Stiles waved him off, closing his eyes. “I’ll be fine once I can find where I left the last shreds of my sanity.”

Derek’s snort made Stiles stare at him. That little smirky smile was back. “You lost your mind a long time ago, Stilinski,” Derek told him. Isaac took off, making a run for the tree-line, barely waiting to shift into a full sprint.

“Hate. You. So. Much.” Stiles gritted at Derek. He could actually feel his back teeth grinding down.

“No you don’t,” Derek hopped into the passenger seat of the Jeep. “Your place or mine?” he asked, quirking a dark eyebrow.

“No, seriously,” Stiles clambered behind the wheel and headed Blue Betty towards Derek’s condo. “I am literally counting the many ways in which I hate you. The hatred is practically setting my spleen on fire.”

A big hand came up and dropped onto the back of Stiles’ neck. “Nakakem says that you’re talking shit.”

Stiles shuddered. “Stop talking to my dragon,” he muttered, trying to shrug off the hand. “Stop touching me while we’re talking about stopping the things you need to be stopping.”

Derek moved his hand away and scrubbed at his face. “Stiles, we need to talk about what Deaton told you.” 

Stiles shook his head emphatically. “No, we really, really don’t,” he insisted. “I’m done with the talking. So very done.” He turned into Derek’s road and stopped in front of the condo. “Apparently I’ve got no choice in this whole thing. So it wouldn’t have mattered who touched Nakakem’s egg, she would only have responded to the right potential mate.” He dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel. “Which is me.”

His laugh wasn’t pretty. “I mean, why the hell would you even consider me as anything other than the bug up your wolfy ass you always have?” He met Derek’s gaze. “Why are you still here?”

“Come upstairs,” Derek said and it wasn’t an order. Stiles was so surprised that he found himself in Derek’s apartment before he knew that he’d started walking.

“Hey!” he poked Derek’s bicep. “Did you voodoo me or something?”

“You’re fucking exhausted,” Derek ground out. “Go to bed and get some sleep.”

“Right,” Stiles said and spun on his heel, heading for the door again. He wasn’t going to let Derek see how upset this little sequence had made him. Invite him up and then kick him out. A normal Stiles and Derek moment then.

“Where are you going?” Derek’s hand slammed against the door, shutting it before Stiles barely got it open.

Stiles looked up at him. “Going to get some sleep, like you said” he thumbed at the door. “Which will not happen of you don’t let me leave.”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ shoulders, spun him around, and marched him into the bedroom. “Sleep here,” he ordered, shoving Stiles down onto his bed.

Stiles blinked up at him. “You are the biggest asshole in the history of assholedom,” he told Derek.

“Whatever,” Derek said. He turned the light off when he left the room.

Stiles pulled a face at Derek’s back. He was never going to be able to sleep with all the crap bouncing around in his brain.

He was asleep a heartbeat later.

****

Love in the First D’Egg’ree

Derek poured some whiskey into a tumbler and went out onto the balcony. This place had become his sanctuary. The pack knew not to come here unless it was an emergency. Derek needed a place to escape the absolute insanity of four teenaged werewolves and three over-achieving humans. And Peter. Always keeping a space that was Peter-free was necessary. 

He listened to the regular cadence of Stiles’ heartbeat. He hated that Stiles’ hated what was happening. But Derek had been the one to set things in motion with his need and desire. He’d just have to figure out a way to confess it to Stiles without losing him forever.

He heard the sound of wings and smiled as Nakakem landed on the balcony, claws curled around the railing. Anyone looking up would see a really strange looking bird.

“His sleep is troubled,” she said.

“Yeah, we’ve dumped a lot on him,” Derek took another sip and looked out over the deceptive calm of Beacon Hills.

Nakakem hummed in his mind. “He knows about the Trials now.”

“He sounded as though he’d rather die than be with me.” Derek tried not to feel bitter or hurt but it was so difficult. He’d been so patient.

“Never fear,” Nakakem declared. “I’ve been inside his mind, and he is quite enamored of you.”

Derek wondered what Stiles would say to her use of the word ‘enamored’ to describe his feelings. “He doesn’t want me,” he said.

“Of course he does,” Nakakem sounded utterly sure. “He’s a stupid young human who thinks he needs to assert his independence of choice.” Derek could actually feel her eye roll. “What has been set in motion cannot be stopped, wereking.”

“I know,” Derek said, sighing. “I just wish I’d thought about what it would mean for him.”

“He is already planning on hunting the largest stag in the forest to provide sustenance for you and your pack,” Nakakem told him.

“Oh god,” Derek groaned. “He’ll probably end up shooting himself.”

Nakakem’s little snort puffed out smoke. “He is a most interesting human,” she noted.

“He’s a reckless fool,” Derek shuddered to think of Stiles with a rifle trying to hunt down a deer.

“And yet you love him,” Nakakem sounded sure.

“And yet,” Derek agreed.

The dragon scratched behind her ear with a delicate claw and Derek reached over to assist. “He has a brave heart,” she said.

“Foolishly brave,” Derek finished his whiskey and put the glass down. “He’s going to get himself killed one day. He keeps forgetting that he’s human and fragile.”

“But not weak,” Nakakem leaned into his touch.

“No, not weak.” Derek sighed. “He’s the strongest person I know.”

“Good mate material,” Nakakem said.

“What happens if he completes the Trials and then decides that he doesn’t want me?” Derek asked. “He’s the sort of person who hates being told what to do. He’s not happy with being forced into the Trials. He’s going to fight it until one of us gets hurt.”

Nakakem shook her head and moved away from Derek’s hand, obviously done with scratching. “Destiny is a strange thing,” she said and stared out over the town. “It’s destiny for a reason, Derek. When something is meant to be, you can’t fight it, you can’t deny it.”

“So free will, freedom of choice, that’s all just bullshit?” Derek was bitter. He hated the thought of being a pawn in some sort of cosmic game. Sure as shit, Stiles would hate it too.

“Of course not,” Nakakem sounded insulted and her scales rippled in annoyance. “What would be the point if none of our choices were our own?”

Derek glared at her. “You are making my head hurt,” he said. “That completely contradicts what you said a second ago.”

Nakakem was obviously trying to explain things to the stupid werewolf. Derek could practically see the smoke spiraling out of her ears. “Destiny is set only for the important things,” she told him. “Most of the decisions you make are not going to change the course of life or history. But some things cannot be left to chance. A true mate to an Alpha is one of those things.”

Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “It just feels wrong,” he muttered. “I feel like I’m forcing him into this.”

Nakakem bumped her head against his arm. “The Trials were set in motion without him being aware. He has not run from you or from the possibility of being yours. He knows now what has to be done and yet he’s here, asleep in your bed, dreaming of hunting down the largest stag he can find to offer to you and your pack. Does that sound like someone whose heart is not involved in the process?”

Derek shrugged. “I just don’t know.” He looked back towards the bedroom. “It’s too important.”

“If he were not on the road to being your mate already, I would not have hatched and would certainly not still be here,” Nakakem told him.

He looked at her. “What?”

Her eyes whirled in golden circles. “The life of the dragon is bound to that of a bonded mate,” she said. “I would not have hatched if Stiles were not already halfway yours.”

“Does that mean you die if we don’t cement the bond?” Derek asked.

“There is a reason why my kind lives many lifetimes,” Nakakem replied. Derek noticed that she hadn’t actually answered the question. “Regardless of what happens to you and your mate, my time with you is finite.”

Derek looked back towards his bedroom. “Does Stiles know that?”

Nakakem shook her head. “It is not something I want him to think about yet. Right now he has to focus on the Trials and being a potential true mate of a wereking.”

Derek sighed. “Only if he _chooses_ me,” he said as he turned to go inside. “I won’t force him into a mate-bond if he’s not feeling the same way about me.”

He toed off his shoes and shucked his jeans. Stiles muttered in his sleep and burrowed his face into the pillow he was clasping. Derek took his shirt off and lay down in his boxers, holding himself carefully away from Stiles.

Stiles scooted nearer, cuddling quickly into Derek’s heat. Derek froze and then put careful arms around Stiles. He allowed his mind to drift, just for a moment, dreaming that this was his reality. That Stiles was his.

****

Stiles woke up warm and feeling very safe. He also realized that the awesomely graphic dreams of sex and cuddles with Derek Hale were actually not all false. Not the sex part though sadly, he mourned. Stealth cuddling was however a very real Hale ability.

“Derek, dude,” he mumbled and the arms loosened immediately. 

Derek sat up next to him and Stiles turned over to look at him. Derek’s bed hair was hilarious. Stiles wanted to find his phone so that he could take a picture and send it to _everyone_

“No,” Derek said, eyes far too knowing. Stiles barely refrained from sticking his tongue out.

“You put the kill in killjoy, man,” he scowled and then flushed. “Also, what the fuck?” he flapped his hands between them.

“Use your words, Stiles,” Derek said and he totally smirked.

“So not acceptable!” Stiles gasped, sitting up. “Using my catchphrases against me.” He glared. “Why were you snuggling with me?”

“I wasn’t snuggling,” Derek objected, but the tips of his ears were a delicate shade of pink, so Stiles knew he was totally lying. He’d learned to read Derek’s tells over the years. 

“Totally snuggling,” Stiles insisted. “Arms and spooning and everything. Why?”

“I was tired,” Derek folded his arms. “And you were in my bed.”

“Which you had forced me into,” Stiles reminded him. 

Derek looked hunted. “I just…”

“Dude,” Stiles felt bad for the guy. “I’m totally on board with the cuddling. Cuddling is the best thing about you wolfy types.” He lay back again and scooched up against Derek, tugging him back down. “So, we gonna talk about it now?”

Derek went still. “Talk about what?” he hedged.

Stiles poked him in the side, and Derek gave a little snort of laughter. Derek being ticklish was Stiles’ secret weapon. No-one else had figured it out, and Stiles wasn’t telling. 

“Don’t be a dick. The mate thing. We need to get the elephant in the room out in the open. Or the dragon,” he said when he spotted Nakakem perched at the end of the bed, head tucked beneath her wing and smoke puffing softly out at every breath.

Derek tried to sit up again, but Stiles threw his arm over Derek’s chest. “We talk like this,” he declared. “I had a dream about us, this, whatever the fuck you want to call it.” He met Derek’s gaze. “Have we been dating or something and I just didn’t know about it?” he asked.

Derek shook his head. “No,” he said. Stiles waited but nothing more was said. 

He poked Derek again. “Spill,” he commanded.

Derek grabbed the offending finger and squeezed. “One day you’ll push me too far,” he warned.

Stiles met his gaze without fear. “It’s been a couple of years since I’ve thought you were actually going to kill me, you know.”

“You are very high maintenance,” Derek, mouth thinning. “I think this is a colossal mistake.”

Stiles rolled on top of Derek when it looked as though Derek was going to run again. He didn’t really think about the position, just that somehow he had to make Derek stay. They both went very still. “Stiles,” Derek growled.

Stiles stared at Derek and saw something in his face, wariness in his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Derek said, but the nervous downward tilt of his mouth was enough to make Stiles suspicious.

“Dude,” Stiles said, poking at one of Derek’s amazing biceps. “Talk to the Stiles. Tell him the truth. Confession is good for the…” 

Derek grabbed his finger again. “Stiles, seriously, stop with the poking me already.”

Stiles had a perfectly awesome comeback but it died in his throat when he felt Derek’s cock harden against his thigh. “Oh my god, talk about poking,” Stiles breathed. He put his hands on Derek’s cheeks and forced him to meet his gaze. He was not going to let himself get distracted at the thought of dicks and Derek. “You’re trying to distract me from finding something out. What are you not telling me?” he demanded. “How much of this stuff that Deaton was talking about did you know?”

Derek swallowed and Stiles waited. “I didn’t know everything then,” he said eventually. He grimaced. “Can you please move?”

Stiles was getting a little excited himself but somehow he knew that if he let Derek up now, he wouldn’t tell him what he needed to know. “No,” he said. “Tell me what you _do_ know?”

****

Derek wanted to push Stiles up and off and make for the woods, but Stiles looked at him, face open, eyes wide and he just couldn’t do it.

He dropped his head back onto the pillow with a groan and felt Stiles’ body go lax and heavy over his as he released his breath. “I told you that I knew you were my mate,” he began and Stiles nodded. “I didn’t tell you that I accidentally set the Trials of Sodalis in motion.”

Stiles gaped at him. “How the fuck can you _accidentally_ do something like that?” he asked.

Derek shrugged one shoulder, aware that Stiles’ body moved with his. “Apparently there are still things I need to learn about being an Alpha, and one of those things is that bleeding on a blue moon and asking for a true mate starts the ritual.”

“Bleeding….” Stiles stared at him. “You were hurt, and you didn’t say anything?”

Derek had to smile at that. From everything he’d said

“And you did it by _accident_?” Stiles asked again.

Derek got irritated. “Do you honestly think I would do something like this to you on purpose?” he asked. Stiles opened his mouth. “No, shut up,” Derek said when Stiles grinned at him.

“But…” Derek lifted a hand and put it over Stiles’ mouth. Stiles licked his palm and Derek shuddered. Those sharp eyes missed nothing, and Derek could practically hear the calculations going on in his brain.

“Can I get up now?” Derek asked, taking his hand away. He already knew what Stiles would say.

“No,” Stiles shook his head and licked his lips, flushing a little when he saw Derek’s eyes drop to his mouth. “This mate thing, is it just about sex?” His voice was a little hoarse.

Derek made a noise in his throat. He’d promised Stiles a long time ago that he wouldn’t lie to him anymore. Even if the answers weren’t what he wanted to hear. “No,” Derek said. “A true mate is the other half of the wolf.”

“But I’m not a wolf,” Stiles pointed out.

“You don’t have to be,” Derek said. “It’s about knowing someone is yours right down to the marrow.”

“I mean, I’m attracted to you, but…” Stiles stared at him. “I don’t think I feel that way about you yet,” he admitted.

Derek refused to acknowledge the blistering pain that shook his soul. He focused instead on the ‘yet’ which implied the possibility of a future. “That’s okay,” he said.

“Don’t lie to me, Derek,” Stiles’ mouth was tight and his eyes were fierce. “Don’t you lie to me about this!” He forced Derek to meet his gaze. “I know that it’s not okay. I **know**!”

Derek tried to look away, but the spark that burned so brightly within Stiles flared up in his eyes. “I can live with it,” he amended. “I don’t want you forced into anything that you don’t want as much as I do.” His body was responding to Stiles’ heat and proximity. Pretty soon, he wouldn’t have any dignity left.

“You are my friend,” Stiles hissed. “The only people I consider more important than you are Scott and my Dad.”

Derek attempted a smile. “Not Lydia?” he asked.

“Will you fucking forget about Lydia already?” Stiles ground the words out through his teeth. “Lydia was a pipe dream that I gave up on years ago.”

Derek stared up at him. “You don’t give up on anything,” he said. Stiles was the most loyal, stubborn, pushy asshole he’d ever met, and he _never_ gave up once he wanted something.

“We all have that first love,” Stiles smiled softly, and for a moment his eyes went a little hazy. “Lydia was my idea of perfection for so long that I didn’t see all of the potential around me.” He met Derek’s eyes. “You have to know that I think you’re fucking gorgeous, right?”

Kate had never told Derek he was gorgeous. She’d called him pet names and made him feel grateful for her attention. But she’d never told him that she liked the way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he tasted. Stiles had said it so matter-of-factly that it took Derek by surprise.

“No,” Derek kept his gaze steady on Stiles. “You _always_ smell like sex, Stiles. Sometimes I have to hold my breath when I’m around you. I didn’t know you thought about me that way.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re like sex on legs,” he said. “I think the Kings of Leon wrote that song “Sex on Fire” with you in mind.” 

Derek felt his face go hot. “You’re an idiot,” he told Stiles.

“You say this so often, I’m beginning to think it’s a term of endearment,” Stiles said, mouth wide. “But I do,” he insisted. “Think you’re gorgeous, I mean.”

“You’re not gay,” Derek said, a little desperately.

“Eh,” Stiles moved one of his hands and made a see-sawing motion with it. “I’m not all that straight either.”

Derek felt his cock get harder. He wanted to shrink in on himself. Stiles was already too close, too observant. Stiles could do even more damage than Kate ever did. Stiles could destroy him. “I…”

“And since when are _you_ gay?” Stiles demanded. “I’ve only ever seen you with women.” He sounded indignant, as though Derek had deliberately kept vital information from him. It made Derek want to laugh.

“I thought you weren’t into me?” he shrugged. “I made do.”

Stiles frowned at him. “I am into sex,” he said eventually. “And if I had known that sex with you was on offer at _any_ time, we could have had this conversation a fucking long time ago.”

“I’m not gay,” Derek said, ignoring the fact that Stiles had just basically told him he was willing to sleep with Derek in a non-pack, non-platonic way. 

“Then how..?” Stiles waved a hand between them.

“You’re my true mate,” Derek said. “It doesn’t matter.”

Stiles stared. “So you could be the straightest dude to walk the planet and if your mate is another dude and you’re not into dudes, then tough shit?”

Derek closed his eyes. Sometimes trying to follow Stiles’ brain made his own brain hurt. “Yes.” He reckoned a simple answer would be the best way.

“So are you even into guys at all?” Stiles asked.

“I’m into you,” Derek told him.

Stiles froze and Derek waited. “You can’t say shit like that, Derek,” Stiles said, sounding more than a little distressed. “It’s not fair.”

“It’s true,” Derek said. “I’m trying to keep my agreement about lying to you, Stiles. You can feel that my body is responding to yours. Do the math.”

“Do the math?” Stiles’ voice went high and semi-hysterical. “Forgive me for having a mild coronary,” he said. “Years of you throwing me around and threatening me have not conditioned me to be suddenly all sunshine and roses at the prospect of being your boo!”

“My boo…” Derek glared. “I swear you are the dumbest asshole sometimes.”

“Takes one to know one,” Stiles shot back.

“Well that was mature,” Derek muttered.

“Can you both please be silent?” Nakakem’s voice sounded in his head. “I am trying to sleep.”

They both turned to look at her. She was puffing out small flames of annoyance. “Sorry,” Stiles said.

“Sorry,” Derek said. 

“Maybe you should sleep somewhere else?” Stiles suggested.

“I think perhaps you’re right,” Nakakem acknowledged. “I shall return to your home, Stiles. I will await you there so that we can plan the stag hunt.”

Stiles’ eyes were a little wild when he turned back to Derek once Nakakem had left the apartment. “Uh,” he said.

“Nakakem says you want to bring me a stag to prove your worth,” Derek said with a smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, god, you are such an asshole!” Stiles’ yelled and ruthlessly dug his fingers into the spot just beneath Derek’s ribs that set him shrieking like a girl.

****

Stiles felt something shift inside him as he tickled Derek. They were something, he thought. Something more than friends but something less than what he thought they could be.

Derek rolled them over and lay heavily on Stiles, stopping any further attempts at tickling. “Enough,” he growled.

Stiles let his legs fall open as Derek hitched a breath. “You sure?” he asked, voice a little rough.

“Stiles,” Derek said; the word a warning.

“We’ve established that there is mutual interest,” Stiles said. “While I’m not yet completely on the Derek-is-my-true-love-page, I’m for sure on board the sex train.”

Derek shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense,” he said. Stiles felt Derek’s cock against his, hard, hot and his mouth watered.

“Let’s do a little experiment,” Stiles suggested.

The wariness in Derek’s eyes told him he knew just how crafty Stiles could be. “What sort of experiment,” he asked.

Stiles wanted to rub his palms together and cackle in glee. The battle was more than half-way won. “Kiss me,” he told Derek.

“No,” Derek said. “It’s not right if you aren’t…”

“Derek,” Stiles said, striving for patience. “I want to climb you like a fucking tree, now fucking kiss me!” His hands were suddenly in Derek’s hair and he tugged him down.

Stiles wasn’t sure what he was expecting from the kiss. He had kissed a guy before, found the scrape of stubble arousing. Kissing Derek was _nothing_ like that. Kissing Derek was like stepping off a cliff onto a cloud. The initial swoop of uncertainty eased into a kiss that made his head swim. He made a noise into Derek’s mouth and realized that he’d opened for Derek without a thought.

“God, Stiles, you taste…” Derek pulled back a little, mouth damp and lips slightly swollen. “Good,” he whispered. “You taste so fucking amazing.”

Stiles opened his mouth to return the compliment but Derek was already back at his lips, tongue spearing in this time, taking no prisoners and showing no remorse. This wasn’t a cloud, this was a fucking hurricane, Stiles thought, a little drunk on the taste of Derek and the promise of something so fantastic he didn’t want to believe it.

He turned his head to the side, forcing Derek to break the kiss. Derek whined into the skin at Stiles’ throat. “Wait,” he gasped, and Derek growled. “Fuck, wait, Derek, wait!” 

Derek stopped making that noise and tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said, but there was something so horribly hurt and damaged in his voice that it made Stiles throw his arms around Derek’s neck.

“No!” Stiles practically shouted into Derek’s ear. “I don’t want you to stop. Fuck, Derek, I never want you to ever think that I don’t want this, don’t want you.” He let go with one hand and grabbed Derek’s hand, pressing it to his groin. “I want this so fucking much I can’t even tell you,” he insisted and stared into Derek’s face. “I want this,” he said, softer but more sure.

Derek held himself stiffly for another moment and then dropped his face back into Stiles’ neck. “You said wait, and I didn’t,” he mumbled.

“I’m about to come in my pants, man,” Stiles’ explained. “I just wanted to get you a little more naked, that’s all.”

Stiles held his breath as Derek stayed silent. And then a hand slid down and started working on Stiles’ belt. “You get naked too,” Derek said, not moving his face from Stiles’ neck. “Yeah?”

“I am _so_ getting with that program,” Stiles agreed and then stopped. “Uh, dude?” He pushed at Derek’s shoulder. Derek didn’t budge. “I’m not sure how we’re supposed to do this if you insist on being my own personal blankie,” he said.

“We should talk about this more,” Derek sounded reluctant again.

Stiles wanted to pull all of his hair out. At the root. “Oh my fucking god, the one time I want less talk and more action you turn into communication boy.”

Derek sighed into Stiles’ skin. “I want you,” he said softly. “Not for a quick fuck, not to date, not casual. Forever.”

Laid out like that, Derek’s truth was a living thing. Stiles held his breath, waiting for the panic to set in. Instead, there was something that felt a lot like a lock turning and clicking into place. “Huh,” Stiles said and took a deep breath. “Did you feel that too?”

Derek finally lifted his head again and Stiles saw that his eyes were shining a kind of silver-blue. It wasn’t a color he’d ever seen on a werewolf. “The mate-bond,” he said, wonder in his voice. “You accepted the first cord.”

“I did?” Stiles asked and smiled. “It feels like a color.” Stile frowned. “Can something that isn’t physical feel like a thing?” 

Derek shrugged. “I’m not sure what it’s supposed to feel like. My parents died before they could explain things to me. It feels like moonlight to me, not silver.”

“Maybe the bond is unique to each person. Like DNA,” Stile suggested.

“It’s as good a theory as any,” Derek agreed.

“I’m thinking that the first cord joining us like this means I’m further along in the Trials than we thought.” Stiles said

Derek gave a little snort that Stiles refused to think of as adorable. “Well, what we’re doing right now is pretty much a precursor to the third Trial.”

“Don’t we have to do them in order?” Stiles asked.

“ _We_ don’t have to do anything,” Derek told him. “The Trials are for the mate to complete.”

“But you’re _my_ mate, right?” Stiles poked Derek’s shoulder. “Why don’t you do it?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Because I’m the Alpha,” he said and grinned.

It was such an open, happy, _real_ smile that Stiles couldn’t stop grinning back. “Oh, so _you’re_ the Alpha,” he teased and shoved his hand under Derek’s t-shirt, finding the smooth skin of his back. “I never would have guessed, what with the claws and the eyebrows and the bloody eyes.”

Derek arched into him, dick pressing hard against Stiles’. “Maybe we should put this on ice until you’ve brought me your trophy,” Derek said. It sounded like he was having a bit of a tough time focusing on actual words.

“Okay,” Stiles agreed and made to roll off the bed. Derek clung to him and Stiles laughed, cuddling back in. “God, you are going to be a complete baby about this relationship, aren’t you?”

Derek whined and licked at Stiles’ throat. Stiles shivered. “My track record isn’t stellar,” Derek admitted.

“I’m not exactly Don Juan,” Stiles reminded him. “I’m sure we can figure this out together.”

Derek kissed Stiles’ neck and then sucked hard. Stiles yelped and smacked him on the head. “Not cool, dude!” he said.

“Marked you,” Derek told him with satisfaction as he pulled back and examined his work. “Now, everyone will know you’re mine.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Nobody but the puppies will know that I’m yours, Derek. Humans will just think the Stiles just got lucky for once.”

“The Stiles?” Derek quirked an eyebrow and finally moved enough for Stiles to sit up. 

“I’m trying it out,” Stiles informed him. “You know, see how it fits?”

Derek snorted and got up off the bed. “It’s stupid,” he said.

Stiles tried a pout and then grinned. “I’ve got millions of options, you can hear them all and tell me which one works for you!” 

His answer was Derek slamming the bathroom door. “Rude!” he yelled. He lay back on the bed, hands behind his head and focused on the glowing silver rope that he could almost see trailing through the air from his abdomen to the bathroom. It should have been weird and scary and Deaton should already have been called, but it just made Stiles feel happy.

Then he realized that what he was feeling was Derek’s emotions being amplified back to him. He tried to send something along the bond, a little pulse of joy and he felt the immediate response.

“Is it always going to be like this?” he asked when Derek came out of the bathroom.

“”The mate-bond is a cord of three strands,” Derek said, cocking his hip and leaning against the bathroom doorframe. “Each completed Trial results in a strand forming and linking us.”

“So the link we just made?” Stiles asked. “Which Trial was that?”

Derek shrugged. “Not really sure, I would have thought it would have been caring for the young because of Nakakem but then that should have happened once you took her home with you.”

Stiles frowned. “I’ve not exactly been caring for her, you know.” He indicated the window. “She’s pretty much provided for herself all the way.”

Derek nodded. “Then the cord we formed must have been because you satisfied me,” he said.

Stiles guppied out for a few seconds and then said eventually, “Unless you came in your pants while we were fooling around back there, I’m pretty sure there was no satisfaction of any kind.” He pointed at his crotch. “In fact, I can attest to the fact that “I can’t get no satisfaction” is a very real thing.”

Derek actually giggled, and Stiles stared at him. This wasn’t a side he’d ever seen. There was happiness, a lightness of being in Derek right now that Stiles could only attribute to whatever was going on between them.

“Satisfaction isn’t always sex, Stiles,” Derek said, eyes twinkling. “By your accepting me and what we could be together, I’m thinking the mate-bond forged from there.”

“So basically, I’m awesome,” Stiles grinned. “But if that means I’ve already completed one of the Trials then we can do the horizontal tango?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Derek smiled. It was all predator and it made Stiles want to run. “You sure you want this?” he asked and Stiles gulped. It was actually audible. ”It’s forever for me, Stiles.”

Stiles stared at Derek. His stupidly pretty eyes, his ridiculous face, the body that launched a thousand jerk-off fantasies (and that was just Stiles) and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, suddenly serious. “I’m sure.” He was. “The surest,” he told Derek. He got out of the bed and walked to where Derek was standing. “I’m yours and you’re mine and we’re going to get werewolf-married and raise the puppies to be responsible members of society.” 

Derek’s smile this time was pure joy. “Let’s not push it,” he said. “We can’t actually perform miracles.”

Stiles stepped into Derek’s space and ran his hands up Derek’s chest, wrapping one behind his neck and the other touching his cheek. “You are everything I didn’t know I wanted or needed,” he said, determined to make Derek see that he was in this, that he wanted it. All of it.

Derek dropped his head so that their foreheads touched. “You’re so young,” he told Stiles. “Making decisions like this, it’s not smart.”

Stiles pinched the nape of Derek’s neck. “Hey, I’m the king of stupid decisions, remember?” He ducked down to meet Derek’s gaze. “I know you may be thinking that this is too fast, that I need more time, but dude, I’m in. All the way in.”

He desperately wanted Derek to believe him. “You were freaking out yesterday,” Derek reminded him.

“I slept on it,” Stiles said. Derek glared at him. Stiles grinned. “I make all my best decisions in my sleep,” he assured Derek.

“I think you being my true mate is the universe’s way of driving me insane,” Derek said.

“Eh, I’ll keep you young, you old dog.” Stiles snorted a laugh at Derek’s filthy look. “Seriously though, you’re the best person I know, even though you used to be kind of an asshole, but hey, mitigating circumstances and all.”

Derek’s eye roll was epic but Stiles was relentless, “I mean, you bit three of the most annoying teenagers in the history of the universe and the biggest douchebag this side of the Equator. Your choices have been questionable.”

“They turned out okay,” Derek defended.

Stiles looked at him. “Only because they had my awesomeness to help them through their childhood.”

“You are the same age as them, Stiles.” 

“In years maybe,” Stiles admitted. “But I think we can safely agree that I am decades older than them in maturity.”

Derek pulled away, laughing his ass off. Stiles was not amused. “Maturity?” Derek wheezed. “Says the grown-up who calls himself ‘The Stiles’?”

Stiles shoved Derek who tipped over back down onto the bed. “Dick,” Stiles said and climbed on top of Derek. The laughter shook them both, and Stiles waited patiently for Derek to get himself back under control. He squirmed a little, rubbed his crotch against Derek’s. That stopped the laughing straight away.

Derek’s eyes were bright on his. “Wanna play, little Red?” he asked.

Stiles pulled his t-shirt up and off. “Come on, Sourwolf, huff and puff and blow me.” 

Derek surged up and kissed Stiles as though it was the last thing left to do in the world. He took his time, ravishing Stiles’ mouth until his lips throbbed. Stiles let Derek move him around, allowing his muscles to go liquid as Derek’s hands moved all over Stiles’ torso.

When Derek finally pulled away, Stiles’ mouth felt swollen. “One of us is kinda overdressed right now,” he said and winced at how cracked his voice sounded.

Derek whipped his shirt off before Stiles had time to miss his arms. And then they were pressed together, naked skin, and Stiles sucked in a breath.

Derek groaned and put his face into Stiles’ neck. “I’m never going to last,” Derek muttered into Stiles’ skin.

Stiles tilted his hips so that his cock rubbed against Derek’s. “So, let’s make it quick this time. We can make it last longer later,” he suggested.

Derek had opened his pants before Stiles had even finished talking. Stiles hurried to do the same, and Derek smacked his hand away. “Lick,” he ordered, holding his palm up to Stiles’ face.

Stiles obeyed without arguing. He sucked in a breath when Derek’s big hand wrapped around them both, jacking them slowly and driving Stiles out of his fucking mind. “Move it, you asshole,” he grunted, trying to get more leverage.

“Shut up,” Derek said, but he was looking down. “God, I can’t wait to suck you down, swallow you whole.”

Stiles came hard, brain whiting out for a few seconds as he tried not to think of Derek blowing him. He shook in Derek’s hands, braced against Derek’s shoulders. “Fuck,” he breathed and shoved his mouth at any piece of skin he could reach. 

“Yeah,” Derek said and just the sound of the broken rasp of his voice made Stiles want to come again. He brought his hand down and pushed Derek’s hand away. 

“Let me,” Stiles begged, and Derek was hot and hard in his hand. Stiles looked up and met Derek’s gaze. “Fucking beautiful fucker,” he gritted and twisted his wrist a little. The strangled cry that escaped Derek was sufficient reward and then Derek was coming in thick, hot pulses across Stiles’ hand.

They leaned against each other, breathing hard. Stiles’ looked down and grimaced. Their pants were pretty ruined. “This is kinda gross, man,” he said. “We should have at least tried to get naked before we came.”

Derek flopped backwards, taking Stiles with him. “We can worry about that later,” he said, still slightly breathless.

“No way,” Stiles said and wriggled out of his jeans, keeping his boxers on. They hadn’t taken as much damage. “You too,” he waved a hand at Derek’s jeans. Derek just grunted. So Stiles wrestled Derek around a little, eventually pulling his jeans off. “New rule,” Stiles puffed, “you buy pants that actually fit you and don’t’ need to be spray-painted on!”

Derek cracked one eye open. “They fit,” he protested.

“If you use butter and a shoehorn,” Stiles grumbled.

Derek grabbed him and tucked him up beside him. “Sleep,” he ordered.

Stiles poked Derek’s chest. “I’m not going to be a barefoot and pregnant and obedient sort of mate, you know. There have been no vows made.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek said and refused to say another word.

Stiles couldn’t even fold his arms in protest. He was wrapped up in Octowolf. “Hey, Derek?” Derek grunted. “Do you think Allison would let me use her bow to hunt the deer?”

Derek shoved a pillow over his face. “Rude!” Stiles sputtered and went to sleep.

****

I Want To Br’Egg’k Free

Allison told him to go fuck himself in her sweet Disney-princess like way. 

She _did_ offer to hunt and kill the deer herself. 

Stiles told her that was not the point.

****

He thought the Sheriff of Beacon Hills would be a good person to ask for arms assistance.

“I’m hoping that this is just a random question,” his father told him when he asked about the cost of a rifle. “Do you remember the one time I took you to the shooting range?” 

Stiles scowled. “I hit the target,” he said defensively.

“Of the person three rows down,” his father reminded him. 

“So unnecessary,” Stiles glared.

“Very necessary,” his father paused, eying him suspiciously. “Why do you want a rifle?” 

Stiles had hoped he wouldn’t ask. “IneedtohuntandkilladeersothatDerekandIcanbewerewolfmarried,” he said in a rush.

Nakakem chose that moment to fly down the stairs. Both Stiles and his dad yelped. “Geez Louise!” Stiles flapped a hand at her, clutching the other to his heart. “A little warning next time, okay?”

She landed on the back of the sofa, peering at them. “I have been thinking,” she announced.

“That way lies madness,” Stiles muttered. He ducked out of the way of his dad’s swatting hand. “Wait, you can hear her now?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” his dad said. “Can’t everyone?”

Stiles shook his head. “I thought it was just me and Derek,” he said.

“About that thing you just said…” his dad began.

“Perhaps I should have continued,” Nakakem said, wings ruffling a little when nobody appeared to be listening to her pearls of dragon-y wisdom.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt. “Turns out that Derek and I are sort of mates and meant to be together, and uh, I need to prove that I can provide for him so that the next cord of the mate-bond can form.”

“Next? Mate-bond? What the hell, Stiles?” His dad looked like he was about to have an aneurism. The vein on his left temple was throbbing ominously. That usually meant that Stiles was going to be grounded for the next millennium.

“You can’t ground me!” Stile blurted.

“What? His dad stared at him. “I haven’t grounded you since the day you turned eighteen,” he said. “No, shut up. Mate-bond with _Derek Hale_?”

Stiles crossed his arms. “What’s the problem?” he demanded. “Am I not hot enough for Derek?”

“I didn’t know you were gay!” his dad yelled.

“I’m not!” Stiles yelled back.

“Well, the last time I looked, Derek Hale was a guy,” his dad said, hands on his hips.

“I think I may be Derek-sexual,” Stiles confided.

His dad sagged into the nearest armchair. “I am too fucking old for this,” he muttered, putting a hand in front of his eyes.

Stiles sat down on the sofa. Nakakem hopped down and crowded onto his lap, obviously realizing that she wasn’t going to be heard right now. Stiles scratched her head, watching his dad. “Uh, Dad?”

“Just give me a moment,” his dad said. “I’ve managed to cope with knowing that werewolves are real and that dragons exist. Learning that my son likes men should be a walk in the park.”

“Not _men_ ,” Stiles felt the need to ensure that his dad understood. “ _A_ man, Derek. Only one. The one and only. Derek Hale, my boo-bear.”

“Stiles,” his dad held up a hand. “Shut up.”

Stiles glowered, and Nakakem nudged him when he stopped scratching. “Derek says that to me a lot too.”

“Oh god,” his dad moaned. “I have something in common with Derek Hale.”

“Yup,” Stiles said. “Me.”

“Oh god,” his dad said again.

****

“Why the fuck do you smell like Derek rubbed himself all over you?” Scott demanded when he went over to the McCalls a little later.

“Because Derek rubbed himself all over me?” Stiles got far too much pleasure at the shocked expression on Scott’s face.

“Dude!” Scott protested.

“And then I rubbed him off,” Stiles announced with glee.

Scott’s eyes were wide with horror. “Dude!” he exclaimed.

“All those times you made me listen to how you made Allison come with just one hand,” Stiles reminded him. “Or when she gave you a blow-job in the back of the school.”

Scott put his hands up defensively. “I swear to God, I will _never_ mention anything Allison and I do together again. Scout’s honor.”

“You weren’t ever a Scout,” Stiles scoffed.

“I could have been,” Scott said, momentarily distracted. “I had asthma.” Then he glared at Stiles. “So are you and Derek a thing now?”

Stiles shrugged and then nodded. “Yeah, I think we may be actually more than a thing. I think we’re maybe forever or something.” He met Scott’s gaze. “I want to be with him, man.”

Scott pursed his lips and got the little v-frown on his forehead that indicated deep Scott-thought. Then he looked up at Stiles. “As long as I never have to hear about your sex-life and he never hurts you, we’re good.”

Stiles held out his hand. “Same goes for you and Allison.” They shook solemnly. 

Stiles sighed. “So, do you think maybe you can steal one of Allison’s bows so that I can hunt and kill a deer for Derek?” he asked hopefully.

Scott laughed like a hyena until Stiles shoved him off his chair with his foot.

****

In the end, it was Nakakem who came up with a solution. 

“I was trying to tell you when you were explaining your mate-bond to your father,” she sniped as Stiles loaded a ham and a turkey into his supermarket trolley. He thought about it for a second and then added another ham. Then another turkey. Werewolves at a _lot_. He’d left Nakakem to perch on the roof of the supermarket while he went shopping. She had not appreciated his gargoyle joke. Everyone was a critic these days. “If you’d listened to me, then we could have avoided so many of those uncomfortable conversations.”

“Nothing as annoying as a know-it-all,” Stiles muttered under his breath. He smiled at Mrs. Edwards who was looking at him in suspicion.

“You wouldn’t listen,” Nakakem reminded him. Stiles weighed some broccoli and dropped a large squash in the trolley. He grabbed a bag of potatoes and some carrots as well.

“I was sort of busy at the time,” Stiles tried a smile, but Mr. Lundquist still scuttled away from him. He needed to not actually say the words out loud. Nakakem could understand his head-speech with ease.

“I am supposed to guide you as you form your mate-bond,” she said, and Stiles stopped as he turned into the next aisle.

“Wait, you’re a guide?” he asked, and then apologized to Emma Horne who had bumped into him at his abrupt stop.

“Of course,” Nakakem said. “It’s what I’ve been telling you.”

Stiles flapped his hands around, narrowly avoiding hitting Jim Carver. “And you couldn’t have said this earlier?” he shouted and then tried a smile at the shoppers who were all staring at him as though he was about to explode. “I’m sorry,” he said. “The voices in my head are particularly loud today.” The sheer speed at which everyone scurried away was impressive.

“Fuck me,” Stiles muttered.

“Soon,” a voice murmured in his ear and Stiles yelped and jumped about a foot, stumbling back against one of the shelves and sending cans clattering in all directions.

Derek looked far too pleased with himself as he watched Stiles flail around, trying to stop cans from rolling away. “Help me, you asshole,” Stiles hissed. “This is all your fault.”

Derek picked up a can and put it on the shelf and then carried on watching Stiles scrambling. “StilesTV is much more entertaining.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Stiles told him and eventually just kicked the rest of the cans under the shelf.

“Yeah, you’re going to be _so_ popular with the shop assistants,” Derek observed.

“Whatever,” Stiles waved a dismissive hand, and made his way to the refrigerators. 

Derek trailed after him. “What are you doing?” he asked as Stiles pulled out several bottles of soda.

“Providing for my mate,” Stiles told him, feeling his face flush. He wanted to lift one of the cold bottles to his face just to take a little of the heat off.

“What?” Derek stared at him.

Stiles shifted on his feet. “Nakakem had this idea, so I’m going to try it before I try to shoot Bambi.”

Derek waited.

“She said that the second Trial is about providing for the pack. It’s not about killing, it’s about _providing_.” He indicated his trolley, willing Derek to understand.

Derek’s frown cleared. “You’re going to make us a meal?” he guessed.

“And ding, ding, ding, first prize goes to Sourwolf the Magnificent,” Stiles beamed. He enjoyed the frown making a swift return. “Aw, baby, you know it’s my pet name for you, don’t be a hater.”

“You’re an idiot,” Derek told him. He smiled. “That’s actually an excellent idea and a unique way of interpreting ancient lore.”

Stiles tried not to preen, but a compliment from Derek was such a rare thing that he couldn’t help himself. “I know right?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to say ‘thanks’ and not fish for more,” he said.

“Eh,” Stiles shrugged and headed to the checkout counters, “I know you think I’m awesome, dude, don’t front.”

“I wonder sometimes what the fuck nature thought about making me fall for you,” Derek mused to no-one in particular.

Stiles bumped his shoulder. “I’m a tiger in the sack,” he confided, waggling his eyebrows. His reward was a delighted choked-off laugh that made him want to dance.

Derek shook his head. “Your dad dropped you on your head a lot, didn’t he?” he asked but his smile was wide and gorgeous.

Stiles wanted to kiss it right off his face. “There may have been some accidental head-droppage,” he admitted as he started unloading the trolley.

Derek’s smile stayed put as he moved to the end of the counter and started packing the groceries into brown bags. “It’s a very good thing you’re cute then,” he said.

Stiles boggled. Derek had just basically outed them in front of Tina Meyers, gossip girl extraordinaire. He stared at Derek who stared back. 

Stiles felt the smile stealing over his face get bigger and bigger until Derek and he were just standing there, grinning at each other like giant dorks.

Tina was already sending a text on her phone as soon as he’d paid.

****

Closer to the Egg’dge

Stiles spent most of the day in the kitchen. He sent a message to the pack to tell them all to be at his place at six thirty. The responses had varied from agreement (Scott) to fuck-off-and-die-dickface (Jackson). He’d enjoyed Derek’s reply to Jackson on that one once he’d forwarded the message. They would all be there. Derek _was_ the Alpha after all. Even Jackson would have to come.

He’d also invited Scott’s mom and Allison’s dad. It was his dad’s day off ,and he was sure that he’d appreciate a little adult, non-wolfy company.

He tried to ignore his dad’s confused look while he bustled around, getting the roasts in the oven and peeling the vegetables. 

“What is this about?” his dad asked eventually.

“Uh,” Stiles stopped moving, “Remember when I talked about killing a deer for Derek?” He grinned. “That sounds like the title of a really good movie,” he noted.

“Stiles,” his father was already rubbing his temple.

“Yeah, sorry,” Stiles pointed at the food, “Well, Nakakem suggested that the wording of the Trials left a little wiggle room.”

“Trials?” his dad’s eyebrows went up.

“Oh right, I didn’t tell you that there are actual Trials I have to go through to get my happy-ever-after,” Stiles turned back to the stove where water was bubbling. He dropped the peeled carrots in the water, adding a little salt.

“Can you please just stop and talk to me?” his dad begged.

Stiles felt his shoulders get tense. “Dad, all you need to know is that I want to be with Derek and will do whatever I have to do to make that happen.”

He waited for his father’s protest, but when none came, he looked back at him. His dad was sitting at the kitchen table staring at him. “When did you grow up, and how the hell did I miss it?” he asked.

Stiles felt a relieved smile form. “I’m not quite sure, but it might have been around the time I accidentally hatched a baby dragon?”

****

Derek was worried. If this dinner that Stiles was cooking didn’t tie the next cord of the mate-bond, then he was going to have to go out and kill something on purpose. Something that wasn’t hunting or trying to kill them. Derek wasn’t sure that Stiles was capable of that kind of action.

He knocked on Stiles’ door and waited. When the Sheriff opened the door, Derek froze. “Derek,” John Stilinski said.

“Sir,” Derek acknowledged.

John stepped back to let Derek in. “You’re a little early,” he noted.

Derek shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. “I thought I could maybe help out a little?” He wasn’t sure if it was permitted in the Trials, but moral support would never be a bad thing, right?

“That’s very nice of you,” John pointed to the kitchen. “Stiles is in there creating havoc.”

Derek took a step towards the kitchen and then stopped, taking a deep breath. “I’m assuming that Stiles has told you that we’re together,” he said.

John nodded. “I won’t say I’m happy about it, you’re older and not…” he paused, “the same species.”

Derek stared at him. “What?” He felt like he’d been hit by a two-by-four.

John looked uncomfortable. “You’re a werewolf and he’s human,” he said.

Derek felt something sick twist inside him. “My parents never considered themselves a different species,” he could hear the defensiveness in his voice. This was an argument he hadn’t seen coming. “Stiles doesn’t think of me as anything other than…”

“Derek,” Stiles voice broke into Derek’s words. Derek looked at him, human and beautiful and suddenly completely unattainable. “Can you come help me in the kitchen please?” Stiles asked, eyes bright and golden brown.

Derek didn’t finish his sentence, just walked past the Sheriff into the kitchen and stared blindly out of the nearest window. So much hope, and to have it taken away was almost unbearable.

He heard Stiles’ voice and listened shamelessly. 

“How dare you?” Stiles hissed at his father. “How very fucking dare you, dad?” He sounded furious.

“Stiles,” John began.

“No!” Derek could practically see the hand motion. “You do _not_ get to judge Derek. Ever. Are we clear?”

“He’s a werewolf, Stiles!” John sounded like he was getting mad too. Derek hunched his shoulders up at the thought that he’d brought this discord into the Stilinski home.

“And he’s the bravest, most loyal, fucking best person I know!” Stiles yelled. “Even if he and I weren’t together, you don’t get to be a racist about this.”

“Racist?” John roared. “He’s a dog in human skin!”

There was an abrupt silence, followed by Stiles stalking into the kitchen. “Help me pack this up, please, Derek.” He pointed at the food. “Is it okay if we do this at your place?”

“Stiles,” Derek said.

“Don’t you start,” Stiles said, and his voice wavered. “Please, just help me get this out of here,” he begged.

Derek nodded and started putting the containers of food on the kitchen table while Stiles turned the oven off and took the carrots off the stove.

“Did you hear all that?” Stiles asked. He made a dry noise. “Of course you did,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek said.

Stiles whirled to face him. “Sorry about what?” he asked, eyes wild and lips trembling. “I fucking choose you. You’re important. Us, we’re important, and I don’t give a fuck what anyone says….mmphh…”

Derek kissed the hurt and anger right out of Stiles, cradling his cheeks in his hands. Stiles went limp after a moment and then his hands came up and clasped Derek’s wrists. 

They pulled away from each other. “We’re in this together and from now on I will _always_ choose you, okay?” Stiles met Derek’s gaze and the platinum flame of the spark within him flared up. “ _Always_.”

“Okay,” Derek said, and the second cord of the mate-bond snapped into place, yanking them together. They gasped into each other’s mouths as the bronze cord wrapped around the silver one that already existed.

“Derek?” Stiles asked when he lifted his head. “What the fuck?”

“That feels like twilight,” Derek said. “Not the book,” he amended quickly. Stiles grinned. Derek knew him too well.

“Mine feels like bronze,” Stiles told him. “Yay! No Bambis were harmed in the forming of this bond.” They smiled at each other.

“Providing for your mate is not always a physical need,” Nakakem’s voice spoke in their heads. “What you did was provide Derek with what he needed. He was hurt to his soul, yet you healed that hurt with your words and your defense of him to your father.”

“Stiles,” John’s voice broke into the silence. “I’m …” He rubbed the back of his head. “Please, don’t leave. Derek, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Know what?” Derek asked when Stiles looked as though he wanted to stand his ground about leaving.

“That you’re as stupidly in love with him as he seems to be with you,” John sounded tired. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do,” Stiles’ tone was belligerent.

“Yeah,” John said. “Yeah.” He looked at Derek.

“I’d die for him,” Derek said simply. Stiles glared at him.

“I’d rather you live for him,” John said and gazed at his son. “He’s the most important person in my life.”

“Well, despite me being a dog in a skin suit, he’s the most important person in mine,” Derek could feel the tension in his shoulders and desperately wanted the confrontation to be over.

John winced. “That was so far out of line I can’t even believe those were my words. Can we forget I ever said anything so horrible?” He met Derek’s gaze. “Can we?”

Derek released Stiles to hold out a hand. “It’s forgotten,” he agreed. Family was too important. Pack was everything.

“Thank you,” John said, clasping his hand. He looked at Stiles. “I’m an idiot, and my only excuse is that I love you and want you to be happy. I’m so, _so_ sorry, son.” Stiles rushed into his father’s arms, and Derek scented regret and love and joy.

His eyes met John’s over Stiles’ head, and he nodded. They would get through this.

****

Werewolves were utter pigs.

Stiles watched as the ravenous hoards descended on his lovingly prepared feast. His dad’s face was a picture as the human members of Pack Hale waited for the actual animals to finish demolishing their food.

“What?” Erica asked, half-masticated food clearly visible in her mouth as she glared at Stiles. He shuddered.

He held up his hands, “No, no, you go ahead and be revolting.” He met Melissa McCall’s gaze across the table and pointed to Scott. “I thought you raised him right?” Scott had a drumstick in one hand and a slab of ham in the other, mashed potato slipping out of the corners of his mouth.

She shook her head. “Raised by wolves, I tell you,” she said sadly. 

Stiles wanted to high-five her awesome. He still thought of her as his second mother. Of course, now that she was being courted by his dad, Allison’s dad _and_ always-creepy-as-fuck Peter Hale, it was almost as amusing as watching the Isaac-Scott-Allison dance of desire.

He felt weird. No, that wasn’t the word as he grimaced when Erica stole a wing from Isaac who growled in warning. 

Disgusted. That was a good word. 

Contented was also a word. 

As was happy. 

Fuck. 

This rag-tag bunch of crazy people-wolves had gone and made him happy. Watching them eat the food he’d prepared made him happy. 

Even Derek, currently looking extremely unpretty with half a turkey carcass in his hands and the other half of the turkey hanging out of his mouth, made him so stupid with happiness it made him a little sick.

He was so very fucked.

Derek’s gaze shot up to meet his suddenly, and Stiles couldn’t breathe. One eyebrow went up, silently asking a question. Stiles shook his head and tried to smile. 

Derek was at his side a moment later. “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice low.

“Nothing,” Stiles said.

“Nothing?” Derek snorted. “Your heartbeat just went through the roof.”

“One, creeper much?” Stiles poked at Derek’s arm. “And two, I’m just happy.”

Derek looked skeptical. “Being happy freaks you out?”

Stiles stared at him. “Hello, do you know our lives?” He waved at hand at the group of people around the table. “This is too much,” he said, chest aching. “I need to protect them all. My magic is worthless as shit if I can’t protect them. Something is going to change, and we’re going to be fucked and I know …”

Derek kissed him.

Right there in front of everyone, Derek kissed the fear right out of him.

And a rope of gold spun around the bronze and silver cords already tied around Stiles’ soul, and pulled taut and true. 

Derek lifted his head and whispered, “Sunshine. It feels like sunshine inside.”

Stiles smiled into his eyes. Those stupidly pretty eyes that changed colors with mood. “Gold,” he told Derek. “My mate-bond is bronze and silver and gold. I’m guessing that’s to do with my spark.”

Derek dropped his head into Stiles’ neck. “Moonlight, twilight and sunlight,” he said. “The nature of the wolf.”

“The mate-bond is true!” Nakakem sang in their heads, flying down the stairs to hover over where they stood. “The Trials of Sodalis have been completed and the mate-bond is true.”

*****

Total Egg’clipse of the Heart

Derek could feel the mate-bond like a living thing inside him. It was wrapped around his heart and piercing through his soul. It pulsed and writhed and warmed him from the inside, pacifying his wolf side with a sense of rightness and contentment.

Stiles put a hand on the back of his neck. “It’s intense,” he said into Derek’s hair.

“I can feel you,” Derek mumbled. “Can you feel me?”

Stiles gave a laugh that was just on the right side of hysterical. “Now there’s a leading question.”

“Stiles? Derek?” Scott’s voice broke into their little cocoon, concerned. “You gonna tell us what’s going on?”

“Can’t you feel it?” Derek asked.

“Feel what?” Scott looked bewildered.

Erica suddenly hurtled into them, arms thrown over their shoulders. “I can feel it!” she shouted, practically deafening Derek. “I can feel you all!” She laughed, throwing her head back. “Oh my god, it’s like the best rush ever.”

Isaac and Boyd came closer, both smiling. “Yeah,” Isaac said. “It’s as though there’s a net around us, holding us together.”

“A pack-bond?” Derek shook his head. “I can’t believe it’s happened. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the presence of pack inside me.”

“Don’t you sense your betas already?” Stiles asked, aware of the invisible mesh that shimmered and bound them.

“Yes, but the bond of an alpha and a beta is different to a true pack-bond,” Derek said. He looked over to where Peter was standing. “Peter?”

Tears were pouring down Peter’s cheeks. “It’s too much,” he murmured. 

When Lydia went to him and wrapped her arms around him, Peter just put his face into her thick hair and his body shook. Jackson moved to his back, arms around him so that they formed a cage of flesh that protected him.

“I’m not sure I understand,” John looked between them all. “Aren’t you already pack?”

“Yes,” Peter said, lifting his head. “We are pack, but we’ve never been a _true_ pack.”

“Until now,” Lydia said quietly.

“Until now,” Peter smiled at her. “You’re even more beautiful now that I can feel your spirit,” he said.

“Ew. Alright, that’s about enough,” Lydia said and twisted away from Peter’s embrace. But her eyes were bright and her mouth curved in a smile. “You’re still the creepy old uncle we all try to avoid.”

“Wounded, I tell you,” Peter clutched at his heart but Derek could tell that it was just banter and not real hurt.

Stiles tapped Derek’s shoulder to get his attention. “Do you think you could maybe explain to the rest of the class?” he asked.

Derek nodded. “A true mate-bond is something that lasts until one or the other dies, regardless of the time or distance.” He watched Stiles’ face. “By joining the wolf and the mate, it makes a nucleus in the pack that acts like a magnet.”

He looked over at Peter in frustration. “That sounds wrong,” he said.

Peter pursed his lips. “Perhaps it’s easier understood this way,” he said. “The mate-bond is like a marriage, right?” Everyone nodded, and Peter continued, “So the alpha and his mate, in this case, Derek and Stiles, become an anchor for the pack. The betas don’t need any other anchor while the alpha and his true mate are alive. A happy alpha is a happy pack.”

“But it never felt as though I could just exchange skin with Boyd and would _be_ him,” Erica said.

“That’s a revolting mental image, thank you Erica,” Peter said, mouth twisting. “The pack-bond is the end result of a true mate-bond. It strengthens the pack and helps us to know when we need to act.”

“So if I’m hurt,” Isaac began.

“Derek could quite possibly help you even if he was a continent away,” Peter said. “The pack-bond is a fragile thing though. We will have to work hard at maintaining it.”

“It’s what makes a pack strong,” Derek said, looking at Stiles. “We can do things as a pack that we would not have been able to before.”

“Why can’t I feel anything?” Scott asked, frowning. “I still feel the same.”

Derek exchanged a glance with Peter. “Maybe you should take this one too,” he suggested.

Peter leaned back against the sofa and crossed his arms. “You’re not Derek’s beta, Scott,” he said bluntly.

“What?” Stiles demanded. “He’s part of our pack!”

Derek put a hand on Stiles’ neck, and he immediately calmed. It was good to be able to offer this to Stiles now, Derek thought. “He’s not really,” Derek said, careful with his words. “Once Peter lost the power of the alpha, Scott became an omega, a wolf without a pack.”

Stiles frowned. “But he has a pack,” he insisted. “ _Ours_.”

“No he doesn’t,” Peter said.

“Why not?” Stiles asked.

“Because I refused to accept Derek as my Alpha,” Scott said, looking at Derek. “Right?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah,” he said.

“Scott,” Stiles began, but Scott held up a hand.

“I did this to myself,” he said and looked at Allison helplessly. “Do you feel anything?” he asked, obviously terrified to hear the answer.

Her reluctant nod made the bond pulse with sorrow.

Scott spun to look at his mother. “Mom?” he asked.

“There’s something different inside me now,” she explained. “I don’t think I feel it the way the others do though.”

“That’s because you’re human and not a wolf,” Peter said, stepping closer. Derek was amused to see Chris and John edge nearer to Melissa as well. Peter smirked. “But you’re part of the pack regardless.”

“How can I be pack if Scott isn’t?” Melissa asked.

“You accept me as your Alpha,” Derek told her. 

“But Scott,” she said.

“Is an omega,” Peter reminded. “He can only become an alpha if he kills an alpha. He will become a beta if he accepts an alpha. Or, if he remains without a pack, he remains an omega. He can’t be an alpha _and_ an omega.”

“Okay, quoting the bible is just wrong,” Stiles said. He touched Derek’s arm. “How do we bring Scott into the pack?”

And because Derek loved Stiles and Stiles loved Scott, Derek said, “He just needs to submit to me as his Alpha.”

Scott scowled. “I’ve not done it for years, Derek, what makes you think I’d do it now?”

It was Stiles who replied, “Because if you don’t, then we’re done.” He faced Scott. “Everyone else in this room is bound together by something more than what we were before. And that’s because we all accept Derek as our alpha.” He watched Scott. “We can’t have someone who isn’t pack with us like this anymore. You’re either in or you’re out.”

Scott stared at him in shock. “Stiles,” he gasped.

Stiles shook his head in regret. He took a step back so that he was pressed against Derek. “All or nothing, man.” There was steel in his voice, and Derek had never been prouder of him. He knew what it had taken for Stiles to make a stand like this.

Scott looked around the room. The only one who looked slightly inclined to defend him was Melissa, but then she too stepped back at John’s hand on her shoulder. Derek put that interesting observation at the back of his mind for later review.

“So you’re forcing me to submit to you or I can’t be a part of the group anymore?” Scott said, lip curling as he met Derek’s gaze. “Pretty much a douche move, dude.”

“It’s the way of a true pack,” Derek said, casually resting his hand on Stiles’ hip. “Scott, if you accept me, accept the pack-bond, you’ll never be alone again.” He’d had this when his family was alive, and he meant to keep them all safe this time.

Derek knew that Stiles needed this. Needed Scott to pull his head out of his ass and face up to reality. “I don’t want to submit to anyone,” Scott objected. “I’m nobody’s slave.”

“Excuse you,” Lydia propped a hand on her hip. “Do you see me as anyone’s slave?” An arched eyebrow warned Scott to think carefully before he answered.

“No,” Scott replied, a little hesitantly. “But…”

“But nothing,” Jackson interrupted him. “Derek isn’t a slave owner.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have stayed if he was.”

“None of us would have,” Boyd agreed. 

“We’ve all had enough abuse in various forms in our lives that we sure a shit aren’t going to take it from him,” Lydia said.

“Thanks Lydia,” Derek said dryly.

“You’re welcome,” Lydia tossed her hair back with a breezy smile.

Stiles snickered, and Derek could feel him lean a little more into him. It felt good. It felt right. 

“So how do I do this?” Scott asked abruptly, and Derek stared at him. He’d been sure there would be more arguing from Scott. At least one storming out and slamming of the door. 

His face must have given him away. “I’m a bit older than the stupid punk who thought he could go it alone at sixteen, Derek,” Scott said with a little smile. “I think I can handle you being my Alpha. After all, you’ve been acting like you are for so long already.”

Stiles hurled himself at Scott. They met in a clash of arms and legs and hair. Derek couldn’t stop his smile. 

“Careful, Sourwolf,” Stiles cautioned when he pulled away from Scott. “Don’t do that too often or people are going to think you’re all approachable and shit.”

Derek flipped Stiles off and shook his head. “You’re such an infant,” he said. “I must be insane to think this can work.” There was no real heat in the words though. Derek was truly content for the first time in over ten years.

“Whoah,” Scott swayed a little. Allison and Isaac were at his side a moment later, holding him up.

Stiles’ frantic gaze met Derek’s. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Scott replied and touched his chest. “Oh my god, I can feel _all_ of you.”

Derek felt Scott through the pack-bond now. He realized that each pack member shone like a different color. And right at the center of it all, the golden sunshine that was Stiles and Derek. It was impossible to separate them.

“That’s so cool,” Stiles said and met Derek’s gaze. “It feels like someone vomited a rainbow all over my heart.”

Derek laughed. As usual, Stiles’ gift with words made absolutely no sense while being utterly true.

****

Stiles announced that he was going home with Derek.

There was an uncomfortable eyebrow conversation with his dad that was silent barring the final, “Be safe, Stiles,” which made Stiles go a painful shade of red. 

And set everyone else off laughing. 

Until Stiles asked Derek, “So just, FYI, does the pack feel _everything_ that you feel?” 

Derek nodded, “Yes, the pack-bond is made to filter the alpha’s emotions.”

Scott cottoned on first, “Oh my god!” he shouted, going white. “I am so _not_ experiencing the entire sex thing with you and Derek, dude, really, not acceptable at all.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “I would strongly suggest that you learn to control the mate-bond with the pack-bond, because playing unwilling peeping wolf is not acceptable.”

Stiles just grinned and Derek closed his eyes, fondly exasperated. “Remind me again why I’m with you?” Derek asked the general universe.

“Because I’m the man,” Stiles nodded, smile wide and winning. “Plus, you think I’m sexy, you want to kiss me, hold me and mmph…” 

Derek was getting way too good at shutting Stiles up.

When he let Stiles breathe again, he looked at the pack. “I’ll make sure I figure out how to mute what I’m experiencing,” Derek assured them. “I don’t think it’s good for any of you to feel _every_ emotion I have.

“Stiles can’t mute anything,” Scott moaned and dropped his head on Isaac’s shoulder. “We’re going to listen to them have sex and I’m going to be scarred for life,” he whined into Isaac’s neck. “I’m going to need trauma counseling.”

Isaac patted the back of Scott’s head but his eyes were dancing with glee as he looked at Allison. “I’m sure the reverse will work too,” he mused.

Scott lifted his head and stared at him in horror. “We’re all going to be able to feel when _anyone_ has sex that’s linked with the pack-bond?”

“You’re so obsessed with sex, dude,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “There are plenty of other things in the world.”

“But I don’t want to feel anyone else having sex with anyone,” Scott muttered, staring around at the pack. “I’m guessing none of you do either?” There was an eerie head-shake in unison that made Stiles snort. Derek dug his fingers into Stiles’ hip, but Stiles could totally feel him shaking with laughter.

Peter cleared his throat. “The wolves might have trouble shutting the pack-bond off at first, but the humans should be fine.”

Stiles noticed his father was a little pale. “Should be?” he asked. “ _Should be_ is not exactly a ringing assurance, Peter.”

Peter smiled and it made Stiles nervous. “Derek just has to learn to control what he filters through the pack-bond,” he said. “I’m sure Derek will get the hang of it quite quickly.”

Derek glared at Peter. “You’re such a dick,” he said.

Stiles patted Derek’s arm. “You can’t kill him,” he reminded him. “We still have some use for him, remember?”

Peter scowled. “Well, well, now I feel all warm and fuzzy,” he said.

“How about being helpful and giving Derek some advice about how to manage the pack-bond then?” Melissa asked sharply.

Then Stiles noticed his dad’s hand and Chris had also moved closer. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” he whispered to Derek.

“It seems like Melissa has made her choice,” Derek agreed, watching John’s hand move lower until his fingers curled around Melissa’s. Then he saw Chris Argent do the same.

Stiles’ eyes bugged out. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed and everyone looked at him.

“What?” Lydia asked.

“Uh,” Stiles waved a hand. “Just thinking about things,” he said weakly. He tugged on Derek’s arm. “Can we please go now?” he begged, distressed at all of the possible scenarios that were rudely occupying his brain.

“You’re emoting all over the place, Stiles,” Erica told him, mouth curved in a wicked grin. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“Nothing!” Stiles insisted and willed the thoughts of old people sex out of his mind.

Derek’s little smirk told him that he was busted. “We should go,” Derek said, saving Stiles from certain humiliation. He just prayed that his favorite werewolf would be able to teach them all how to filter their emotions.

“Thank god,” Stiles breathed and refused to look at his dad because there were feelings bleeding through the pack-bond and Stiles really didn’t want to know about his dad’s _feelings_ about Melissa.

“Chris is having the same feelings,” Derek told him, leaning close to Stiles’ ear. “And I won’t even get into Peter…”

“Shut up, shut up!” Stiles stuck his fingers in his ears. “La la la la la I can’t hear you!”

Derek pulled one hand down. “You do realize that it won’t help to block your ears?”

“Ugh, I hate you forever,” Stiles muttered, face hot. “No more nookie with the Stiles.”

“Oh god,” his dad said, putting a hand over his eyes. “I could have gone for the rest of my life not hearing that.”

“You and me both,” Jackson muttered, looking as though he’d smelled something terrible. “Way TMI, Stilinski.”

“Derek,” Stiles smiled venomously, “we can totally leave the pack-bond open so that Jackson can experience the joys of our hot, gay, werewolfy love, right?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Please, you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve actually seen since I was turned.” He turned an annoyed face to Erica and Boyd. “No privacy. Ever. “

Boyd bared his teeth. “You need to learn to leave the room, man.” Erica giggled.

“You were in the fucking living-room!” Jackson protested. “On the sofa!”

“What happened on the sofa?” Derek asked, frowning. 

Stiles started dragging him out of the house. “Come on, Sourwolf, leave the domestics till tomorrow. I wanna get jiggy with you.”

He decided that freaking out his dad with sex mentions was his new favorite thing. Derek let Stiles shove him into the Jeep. “My car,” Derek protested. 

“Can be fetched tomorrow,” Stiles started Blue Betty, looking at Derek. “Or you could always let Boyd drive it home.”

“I’m sure it will be safe in front of the Sheriff’s house,” Derek slumped into the passenger seat. “That went better than I expected.”

Stiles headed into the center of town. “I know right and look! Shiny new mate-bond for the win!” 

Derek stared at him. “Do you ever speak normal English?” 

Stiles blew a raspberry at him and stopped at a traffic light. “Please, you love everything about me.”

“I really don’t though,” Derek said.

Stiles wasn’t worried. He could feel the living bond between Derek and him. It arched like a cat in the sun, warm and content. Derek loved him and he couldn’t even hide it anymore.

****

You Are My Egg’stacy

Nakakem was waiting for them at the apartment when they arrived.

“You do realize that Derek and I are going to get frisky, don’t you?” Stiles asked her.

Nakakem’s eyes whirled. “The bond is true but you still need to consummate your mating,” she agreed. “I shall not remain long.”

“I’m assuming you needed to speak to us about something,” Derek said.

Nakakem sent a puff of smoke at them. “I am here to tell you that I will be gone shortly,” she announced.

Stiles stared at where she was perched on the television cabinet. “What? Why?” he asked. “Where are you going?” 

“I cannot remain with you once you have completed the Trials and the mate-bond is formed,” she said. “This is how things are done. It’s why I was born to this life, to guide you and make sure the true mating occurred.”

“But,” Stiles said. “I don’t want you to go.” He knew he sounded like a pouting kid, but he’d just barely started to know her.

“We live many lifetimes,” she reminded him. “There is no fear of death for a dragon.”

Stiles noticed that Derek wasn’t saying anything. “Do you know anything about this?” he demanded, voice going a little high.

Derek shook his head. “She just told me that the life of a dragon is finite.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this to me because..?” Stiles asked, slightly belligerent.

“Because _all_ creatures have finite lives,” Nakakem said. “There is no true immortality, Stiles. All of us eventually fade out of existence.”

“But you’re a dragon,” Stiles said. “And I’ve just met you.” His throat was tight. “You’re only a few days old.”

Nakakem lifted a scaly shoulder. “I shall not pass today or even tomorrow,” she said. “However, I wanted to make certain that you understood why I cannot remain.”

“I don’t understand,” Stiles muttered, folding his arms. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Derek watched him silently for a moment. Then he took his hand. “We can’t change it, Stiles,” he said, and he was so gentle that it made Stiles’ eyes grow damp. “Let’s just enjoy the time we _do_ have with her.”

Stiles didn’t want to let it go. “Stop being kind to me,” he grumbled at Derek. “It makes me think you’ve had a personality transplant.” He was being ridiculous. He _knew_ he was being ridiculous but he wanted to keep his dragon.

“You won’t remember me,” Nakakem informed them. 

Stiles stared at her. “What’s the fucking point of your existence then?” he demanded. “It makes no sense at all.” His eyes stung. 

Derek wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Breathe, Stiles,” he urged. Stiles obeyed the inherent command in Derek’s voice.

“This is such bullshit!” Stiles exclaimed, slumping against Derek. “What’s the point of any of this?”

Nakakem snorted fire. She sounded impatient when she said, “You are important, Stiles. You and Derek. You’re more together than when you are apart.”

“So what?” Stiles asked. “So we’re together and there’s the bond. So what?” 

“Do you think that for every mate-bond a dragon is born?” Nakakem asked. 

“I don’t know!” Stiles yelled. “Because I’m guessing that everyone who gets to meet a dragon forgets about them!” His heartbeat was ratcheting up but he could seem to catch his breath.

“Stiles,” Derek was a solid wall of heat against him. “You need to control yourself.” His voice was even but urgent.

“Why?” Stiles demanded. He swung his head to glare at Nakakem. “This is all total bullshit!”

“Because you are hurting your mate,” Nakakem told him.

Stiles stopped breathing for a second, allowing himself to feel what Derek was feeling. The pain bleeding through from the mate-bond almost crippled him. “Oh my god, Derek, why didn’t you say something sooner?” he gasped as Derek stumbled to one knee, face pale and body shaking.

“The mate-bond works for the positive and the negative emotions,” Nakakem reprimanded. “You need to be more careful with flinging everything you feel out into the universe.”

Stiles dropped down beside Derek, panicking for a whole new reason. “What can I do?” he asked, hands careful on Derek’s face.

“Calm down.” It was a simple enough command but one Stiles had always found difficult to obey.

Stiles forced his breathing to slow, focused on the uneven banging of his heart against his ribcage and willed it to calm. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling Derek against him.

Derek nodded wearily into Stiles’ neck. “I’ve always known what you’re feeling,” he said, voice a little rough. “But the bond intensifies it so that _I’m_ feeling it too.” He lifted his head. “Trust me, a werewolf having a panic attack is not a good thing. Ever.”

Stiles concentrated harder. He could feel Derek shaking against him and it made him sick to think that he’d been responsible for this.

“Stop it,” Derek said. “We’re going to make mistakes with the mate-bond. I mean, it’s us, so it’s pretty much a guarantee we’ll fuck it up many times over.”

Stiles gave a wet little laugh and clung harder to Derek, “I wonder just how much crap we’re going to go through before we get this taped.”

Nakakem murmured, “Once you are more accustomed to each other, it will be easier to control yourselves.”

“And how long is that going to take?” Derek asked. Stiles was happy to feel the shaking stop.

“It varies with each pair,” Nakakem said. “I think with you two, the learning will be swift.”

Stiles stroked a hand down Derek’s back, as much comfort for him as for Derek. “We’d better learn fucking fast then,” he said. “I don’t ever want to you to feel like that again.” Derek pressed a kiss against Stiles’ throat.

“The mate-bond amplifies what you feel,” Nakakem explained. “Soon Derek will be able to assist you when you take fright.”

“I don’t “take fright”!” Stiles protested. “It’s a panic attack. A genuine disorder.” It had become an automatic defense over the years. Every time someone told him to _snap out of it_ , he wanted to hurt them.

Derek’s face was still buried against Stiles’ skin. “I’m thinking that dragons aren’t really familiar with modern mental disorders,” he offered.

“You will also gain some of the healing abilities of the wolf,” Nakakem said. It sounded as though she was offering it as an apology for upsetting him.

Stiles perked up. “I’m not always going to bleed and break when shit goes down?” he asked.

“You will still bleed and break,” Nakakem said, entirely unironically. Stiles deflated. “But you will heal faster from your injuries because of your bond.”

“I’d rather not get injured at all, thank you very much,” Stiles mumbled.

“We all know that’s never going to happen,” Derek said and his color was back to normal now. “You’re the clumsiest human I’ve ever met.”

Stiles opened his mouth to protest. And he really couldn’t, because he totally was. “So rude,” he grumbled, but the hand carding through Derek’s hair was gentle.

“I will leave you to explore the strength of your mate-bond,” Nakakem told them.

“Where are you going to go?” Derek asked. 

The shrug of one scaly shoulder was scarily human. “I am sure I can find some mischief this night,” she said, and her toothy dragon smile made Stiles nervous for whoever ended up on her radar. “Your pack is fascinating.”

“That’s not the word I’d use,” Stiles said and squirmed away when Derek pinched him. “Ow!”

Nakakem launched off the cabinet and headed for the balcony. “You’ll be coming back, right?” Stiles asked.

“I will not leave you yet,” she assured him and disappeared into the night like a whisper.

Stiles realized that he and Derek were still on the floor. “Come on, big guy,” he said, standing up and hauling Derek with him. “I don’t know about you but I’m freakin’ exhausted.”

“I could sleep,” Derek admitted.

They walked through the apartment into Derek’s bedroom. Stiles had a moment of panic. “Uh,” he wondered whether he’d assumed too much.

“Sleep,” Derek pulled off his t-shirt and headed for the bed. He sat down on the edge and toed off his boots. Stiles only got moving when Derek started unbuckling his belt.

Stiles scurried to the other side of the bed, taking his hoodie off and leaving his t-shirt on. He slipped out of his sneakers and unzipped his jeans, not turning around until he heard a rustle of sheets.

Derek was lying back against the pillows, his skin dark bronze against the white of the linen. “Geez, but you’re fucking gorgeous,” Stiles blurted and blushed.

Derek smiled lazily. “Get into bed, Stiles,” he ordered.

Stiles scrambled out of his jeans and climbed under the sheet. “You’re not the boss of me,” he muttered.

Derek threw an arm over Stiles and hauled him in close. “Yes I am,” he squeezed.

“Stealth cuddler,” Stiles accused and closed his eyes. He was never going to fall asleep.

****

Rest’Egg Here With Me

It was morning when Derek woke up. Early by the look of the weak sunlight trickling across the floor. He raised a hand to scratch at his chest and realized he couldn’t move his arm. He lifted his head, watching as Stiles muttered something and scooted in closer.

Derek used his other hand to gently push Stiles over onto his back. There was a mild flailing of limbs as Stiles struggled against his hand but then he went limp and starfished out on the mattress, suddenly taking up double the space he actually needed.

Stiles’ mouth dropped open, cheeks rosy with sleep and eyelashes dark against his skin. Derek wondered when he’d become an actual girl. This wasn’t like him, waxing poetic about the pretty boy in his bed. But this wasn’t just any boy. This was Stiles. Ridiculous, infuriating, pushy, obnoxious, brilliant Stiles who made his life difficult just by existing. And he was Derek’s. 

Derek traced the arch of Stiles’ eyebrow with a careful finger, still a little overwhelmed that he was allowed to do this. So many years of looking and wanting and never touching other than in anger. It seemed impossible, and yet, here they were.

“I can actually hear those rusty brain gears grinding, dude,” Stiles said without opening his eyes. “Stop thinking, it’s not healthy for you. You need to focus on the brooding and the growling.”

Derek poked his finger into a soft cheek. “I’m going to have to teach you the correct way to respect your Alpha,” he grinned. Happiness had felt so far beyond his grasp for so long.

Stiles’ eyes flew open. “I’m not going to be wearing a collar!” he yelped.

Derek stared at him in confusion. “I will never understand the way your mind works,” Derek shook his head. “But we can talk about collars once we’re a little more comfortable with each other.”

Stiles’ eyes went comically huge. “Dude,” he breathed.

“What I have I told you about calling me dude?” Derek asked, his finger moving down along the line of Stiles’ jaw. The sudden bob of his Adam’s apple made Derek want to bite down and take.

“Um,” Stiles stuttered when Derek pushed the neck of his t-shirt away and lowered his mouth to the sharp clavicle bone and nipped at the skin. “What should I call you then?” he asked, voice going high when Derek moved his lips to the curve of Stiles’ shoulder. “Baby? Snookums? Woof?”

Derek snorted a laugh into Stiles’ skin and bit, teeth not quite entirely human. “You’ll push too far one day,” he warned. 

“But not this day,” Stiles offered his best Aragorn imitation. Derek rolled onto his back and laughed.

Stiles pushed himself up onto one elbow. “Hey, why’d you stop?” he asked. “I was hoping for sexy times,” he waggled his eyebrows at Derek.

“You look like Groucho Marx,” Derek told him, mouth still curved in a smile. “And not in an attractive way.”

“Groucho!” Stiles exclaimed. “That can be our secret sex code word!”

“Oh my god,” Derek stared at him. “I’m mated to an imbecile.”

Stiles glared. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with Grumpy McSourwolf for the rest of my life.”

They looked at each other as Stiles’ words sank in. “Huh,” Derek said and pulled Stiles forward so that he was splayed across Derek’s chest. “Well, I’m stuck with Clumsy McCockypants for the rest of mine. I win at the annoying-mate lottery.”

Stiles giggled into Derek’s chest. “You are such a fail at humor, dude. Please don’t make the funny.”

Derek felt a little offended. “Hey, I can be funny.”

Stiles lifted his head. “No, you really can’t,” he said and pecked him on the lips. “But that’s okay, baby, I’m funny enough for the both of us.”

“Don’t call me baby,” Derek’s mouth tingled. “You just think you’re a lot funnier than you actually are.”

“I’m hilarious,” Stiles beamed at him. “Now, take me to bed, you big stud or lose me forever!”

“Yeah, quoting Top Gun is great for setting the mood,” Derek shook his head. “We’re already _in_ bed.”

“Times a-wasting then,” Stiles threw his body completely on top of Derek’s, covering him in a blanket of soft skin, long limbs and busy hands. “I wanna fuck.”

“Yep, a true romantic,” Derek grinned and dug his fingers into Stiles’ ass, tilting his hips a little so that their cocks could grind together. 

“Just call me Casanova,” Stiles gulped, cheeks going a little pink and mouth falling open.

“Again, not exactly conducive to romance referring to yourself as the world’s greatest lover,” Derek stopped. “You _have_ done this before right?”

Stiles went a little redder. “Not exactly,” he hedged.

“What exactly _have_ you done?” Derek waited. Stiles wriggled around a little until Derek’s arms tightened around him.

“I’ve only been with one person, a girl.” Stiles said it all in a rush of words as though he was ashamed. “What you and I did together is the only time I’ve been with a guy, apart from a little experimental kissing.”

Derek immediately wanted to find the girl who had been Stiles’ first and order her to forget Stiles ever existed. The boy he’d kissed though, Derek would have to tear apart. He wasn’t aware that he was growling until he felt Stiles’ palms on his face. “Derek?”

Derek knew that he’d made a partial transformation and was ashamed of his lack of control. He tried to turn his head away from Stiles. Of course, the stubborn little shit held on and met his gaze fearlessly. 

“I’m okay with the wolfy parts of you, man.” Stiles’ voice was soft. “I sort of dig that you’re possessive and growly. It makes me feel wanted.”

Derek closed his eyes, willing his teeth to retract and his eyes to reset. “I’m going to have to work on my control when it comes to you,” he admitted and shifted his hips, letting Stiles feel how hard he was.

Stiles’ eyes went cloudy and he licked his lips. “I…” his breath hitched as Derek pressed one finger against his hole, feeling the resistance through the soft fabric of his boxers. “I’m not really feeling the control thing right now,” Stiles confessed.

“I want to hold you down, lick you open and fuck you raw,” Derek growled through gritted teeth.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded vigorously. “I am totally down with that.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you,” Derek held on to the last threads of his control. Stiles was a walking, talking hazard to his own health.

“Hey,” Stiles met Derek’s gaze fearlessly. “I know that it’s not going to be fun for me the first go around.” He swallowed. Derek thought that he wasn’t even aware of his restless fingers petting him as he spoke. “But I trust you,” Stiles declared. “I trust you to take care of me. When you almost flipped your shit last night when I got upset, tells me that you’re going to make sure there’s as little discomfort as possible.”

Derek shuddered and kneaded Stiles’ ass cheeks. “You’re fragile,” he muttered. “Human.”

“I’m also nineteen years old and fucking horny,” Stiles stared at him. “Plus, I’ve got the hottest piece of man-flesh in the world wanting to pop my virgin ass-cherry.”

“Oh my god,” Derek closed his eyes. “You are the most…”

“Awesome?” Stiles suggested with a sly grin. “Sexiest?” He bent down to kiss Derek soft and slow. “What I am, is yours, Derek.” His eyes were dark and sincere.

“I want you,” Derek told him. “It feels like I’m burning up with wanting you.”

Stiles quirked an eyebrow. “And yet, here I am, all laid out like a banquet, and I’m trying to convince you to fu…”

Derek swept up and pulled Stiles’ head back with ungentle fingers. The line of throat was too much to resist, so he sucked a mark into the pale skin at the base of Stiles’ neck. “Shut up,” Derek murmured into Stiles’ skin. “Done talking now.”

“Thank god,” Stiles grasped at Derek’s shoulders and moved in closer so that he was in Derek’s lap, cradled over his thighs. “I thought I was going to have to bring out a PowerPoint demonstration.”

Derek ruthlessly tore Stiles’ t-shirt off, ignoring Stiles’ yelp of surprise. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And he feasted.

****

Stiles hadn’t really spent too much time thinking about sex with a guy. Objectively, he’d always looked at Derek and known that he was hot like burning. But for Stiles, it had always been about girls. First Lydia, then Cora, then several other faceless and nameless pretties. 

Sleeping with Mattie after seventeen years of virginity had been distinctly underwhelming though. Stiles had decided that it may have been because his emotions hadn’t been involved. So he’d waited to fall in love. 

It hadn’t happened.

Two years later, watching his friends fall in love and pair off, and Stiles had still not found someone he felt a hundred percent sure of.

Then he’d touched an egg in the woods and everything had changed.

Derek’s hands were surprisingly gentle on Stiles’ skin. Stiles held his breath as Derek’s mouth trailed down his chest. He sucked in a gasp when teeth scraped over his nipple. He clutched at the sheets, digging his fingers in as Derek worried the puckered skin.

“Touch me,” Derek lifted his head. “I need your hands on me.” His eyes were hot and urgent.

Stiles unclenched his fingers and wrapped them in the thick strands of Derek’s hair. “I can’t brain,” Stiles groaned when Derek moved to the other side of his chest.

“I want to eat you up in little bites,” Derek muttered against his skin, moving lower. 

Stiles’ fingers tightened and pulled. He wanted to apologize, but Derek was dipping his tongue into the small indentation of his navel and who the fuck knew how sensitive that was? His hips surged up, stopping only when his dick rubbed against Derek’s. “Boxers. Too. Off. Fuck.” He sounded like a lunatic with a terrible vocabulary.

Fortunately, Derek could speak Stiles, so it was about half a second and they were both naked and moaning at the pleasure of skin on skin. “Holy shit,” Stiles thought his brain was going to explode. He was overloading on sensation.

“Your skin,” Derek licked across his abdomen, tasting him like some sort of treat.

“It’s just skin,” Stiles assured him, entirely sure that said skin had been set on fire.

“You taste good,” Derek nosed at the coarse hair at Stiles’ groin and inhaled. “Like mine.”

Stiles wanted to scream. “Stop fucking around, you asshole. I’m ready like the readiest thing that ever readied.”

Derek laughed into Stiles’ groin, and Stiles shuddered and moaned. “Shut up, Stiles.” A moment later, Stiles’ dick was encased in warm, wet heat and the top of his head blew off.

“Fuck. God. Motherfucking shitfuck!” Stiles clutched at Derek’s shoulders and tried not to surge up so that he didn’t actually kill Derek. Death by dick, he thought, beyond hysteria. The head of his cock touched the soft back of Derek’s throat. Stiles was just fucking done.

He could feel their bond like something living enveloped around them, and it pulled taut and snapped back in a fall of golden silver sparks of bronze.

He came hard, shouting stupid meaningless shit at the sky, and Derek swallowed every last drop.

****

Derek could feel the aftershocks of Stiles’ orgasm running through his body. It made him stupidly proud to know that he’d been the one to do this. The mate-bond curled up like a contented cat around his soul.

“I’m blind,” Stiles flapped a hand.

“Your eyes are closed, you moron,” Derek pried one of Stile’s eyelids open and grinned down at the hazy amber staring back at him. 

“Huh,” Stiles sounded surprised. “So they are.” He opened his other eye. “I think you may have just sucked my brain out through my dick,” he observed.

“Charming,” Derek drawled. 

“But effective.” Stiles smiled, wrapping his fingers around Derek’s dick. “Can I give you a hand?”

“No,” Derek pushed his hand away. “I want to come inside you.”

Stiles gulped. “Uh.” His eyes crossed. “Okay.”

Derek reached for the lube in his bedside drawer and poured some into his hand. He drizzled more on Stiles’ cock and stifled a laugh at the yelp he got in response.

“It’s fucking cold, you utter asshole!”

“Deal with it,” Derek was practically salivating at the sight of Stiles spread out in front of him. He pressed one finger against the tight hole and whispered, “Now, where do we start?”

He could feel the fine tremors running through Stiles’ body. “You okay?” he looked up the length of pale skin and resisted the urged to mark every inch of it.

“The anticipation is actually probably worse,” Stiles admitted. “Just do it, man.”

“So very romantic,” Derek drawled and pushed in to the first knuckle.

Stiles sucked in a breath, his eyes going very wide. “Holy shit!” he stared at Derek. “Your finger is in my ass.”

“Are you going to keep up with a running commentary?” Derek wondered. He waited for any sense of discomfort from Stiles, either through the bond or through scent. Nothing bled through from Stiles.

“Maybe,” Stiles said. “This is all new territory for me, dude, literally _virgin_ territory.” His smile was bright though, so Derek wasn’t particularly worried. Stiles frowned at him a moment later. “Is that it?”

Derek dropped his forehead onto Stiles belly. “I think a gag will be on the shopping list.” 

“So you’re into the kinky shit then?” Stiles made a squeak when Derek pushed in to the second knuckle and then stopped. “That feels…”

“Talk to me,” Derek urged. 

“It feels like a finger up my ass,” Stiles told him.

“I’m going to exchange you for a better model,” Derek said and crooked his finger and watched Stiles’ mouth drop open and his entire body arch in reaction. The circuit of the mate-bond lit up and Derek sucked in a calming breath.

“Oh my god!” Stiles grabbed at Derek’s shoulders. “What the fuck was that? Was that the prostate? I bet that was the prostate. The books and porn don’t know shit!” 

Derek covered Stiles’ mouth with his own, kissing him ruthlessly into silence. “You’re much more appealing when you don’t talk,” Derek pulled back and watched the blotchy color creeping over Stiles’ chest. He carefully added a second finger, trying to minimize the intrusion but Stiles still winced. “Should I...?” he started to pull out.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Stiles grabbed at his wrist and held him in place. “Just give me a minute to get used to how it feels.” The bond flared up and Stiles smelled like nerves and excitement. Still there was no fear or pain.

Derek nodded and waited, eyes cataloguing every micro-expression across Stiles’ face. He could feel the tight resistance against his fingers and he sucked a kiss against Stiles’ stomach, enjoying the jump and play of muscles.

“I’m good,” Stiles made a restless move and Derek felt the slight give inside. He slid in further with both fingers now, moving them so that he could make a place for himself inside that wet heat. “Oh,” Stiles’ eyes went wide. “Yeah, that works.”

Derek kissed his hipbone, this time using a little bit of teeth as he eased a third finger inside. Stiles’ breathing went ragged for a moment and then his heart rate sped up again. “Okay?” Derek murmured against soft skin.

“I’m not sure,” Stiles admitted. “It hurts but then it’s a good sort of hurt, you know?” 

Derek met his earnest gaze. “You feel amazing,” Derek spread his fingers and Stiles gave a little flinch and then relaxed again. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“I’m thinking your dick is way bigger than those three fingers,” Stiles’ breath turned choppy as Derek brushed against his prostate again. “No chance this is going to get easier on my ass.”

Derek snorted a laugh. “You have such a way with words, Stilinski.”

“A regular Shakespeare,” Stiles agreed on a shaky laugh. “Come on, I’m ready, give it to me.” He made a grabby hands motion and Derek moved back up to kiss his lips.

“Not yet,” Derek said and carried on his careful prep work. He watched Stiles avidly, noticed when the blotchy skin turned pale red and moved across his entire chest and up his neck into his cheeks. The bond throbbed between them as Stiles’ arousal scented the air again. Derek looked down and saw that Stiles’ cock was a lot happier with the current situation than a few moments before and sucked a mark onto Stiles’ jawline.

“I swear, you’re like a fucking dog marking your territory,” Stiles complained but obligingly tilted his head to the other side so that Derek could mark him there too.

“Condoms,” Derek said, making a move to pull his fingers out.

Stiles stopped him again. “I’m clean,” his eyes were dark with desire. 

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Derek shook his head. “Werewolves can’t get STDs.”

“Awesome,” Stiles beamed. “So no condom then.”

“That’s not wise,” Derek thought his entire body would shake apart if he let himself think of being inside Stiles with nothing separating them. “Safe sex is the smartest choice.”

Stiles stared up at him. “I don’t care.” His hands cupped Derek’s face and forced him to look at him. “I want to feel you. It’s _my_ first time, so I get to choose.” He paused. “Unless I can get werewolf impregnated with your puppies?”

“You seriously need to stop looking for werewolf facts on the internet, Stiles,” Derek told him with a grin. “You’ve absorbed far too much crap.” He kept gently moving his fingers inside Stiles, feeling the slow relaxation of the tension thrumming through Stiles.

“Eh,” Stiles shrugged one shoulder, not letting Derek go, “You were all secretive about the werewolf shit. I had to find other sources.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Did you go to _every_ porn site on the planet to ask that question?”

Stiles looked offended. “No way, dude, I only searched the ones that specialized in the kinky shit.”

“Dear god,” Derek groaned. “Don’t say another word.”

“One more,” Stiles moved one hand from Derek’s face and held up a finger. “No condom.”

“That’s two words,” Derek corrected him. “Okay, no condom.”

“Okay,” Stiles took a shaky breath. “Okay.” 

Stiles was loose now, body opened up as much as Derek could manage. He pulled his fingers out and watched Stiles’ pulse flutter in the dip of his throat. “It’ll be easier if you turn over,” Derek offered. 

Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s shoulders. “I don’t want easy,” he told Derek. “I want to watch you when you come inside me.”

Derek groaned and dropped his forehead into the curve of Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m not going to make it if you keep saying shit like that.”

Stiles reached behind him and handed Derek a pillow. He put it beneath Stiles’ hips and took a moment to appreciate how gorgeous Stiles looked in his bed. “This doesn’t seem real,” he said.

“Trust me, my ass knows how real this is,” Stiles pulled at Derek’s shoulders. “Come on, dude, I want you inside me ten years ago.”

“You didn’t know me ten years ago,” Derek told him as he pressed the tip of his cock against Stiles’ hole. It felt as though the world was taking a breath.

“I did too,” Stiles argued, fingers digging into Derek as he pushed forward. “I was at the station the night of the fire when you and Laura were telling my dad about the fire.” He arched as Derek suddenly surged into him, seating himself in one long slide. “Oh my god!” The mate-bond pulsed between them, bright and strong as Stiles lifted his legs and wrapped them around Derek’s hips.

Derek held still, allowing Stiles to get used to the feel and the size of him. He lifted up on his arms and stared down at him. “You were the kid,” he murmured, memories flashing by of a little boy who had come to sit neck to him in the police station. Laura had been giving her statement to the sheriff. Derek had been waiting for her, shocky and guilty and knowing that this was all on him because of Kate. “You held my hand while I cried.”

Stiles watched him with a little smile. “I made room for another crush in my life that day,” he admitted. “You’ve been one of my fantasies for a very long time.”

“You were nine!” Derek felt obliged to sound horrified.

Stiles moved his hands to Derek’s hips and pulled him in closer, wrapping around him in a monkey grip of arms and legs that Derek never wanted to loosen. “I only kissed you in my dreams, man,” he snickered at Derek’s expression. “The sex stuff happened when I discovered porn on the internet.”

“You’re outrageous,” Derek couldn’t help the soft smile crossing his face. “That night, you kept me from killing myself.” His voice was very quiet as he confessed.

“What?” Stiles tightened around Derek as his eyes went wide in shock. “You can’t be serious.” The mate-bond snapped and crackled in response to Stiles’ emotions.

Derek nodded. “That stupid kid held my hand and made me stay.” He moved his hips, swiveled them, and Stiles stuttered a breath. 

“Derek!” Stiles tilted his hips and took Derek deeper. It made Derek shudder as he tried not to come. “Wanted you for so long,” Stiles told him as he pressed open-mouthed kisses across Derek’s throat.

Only then did Derek realize he’d been bearing his throat to Stiles as though in submission. He choked back a moan as Stiles’ internal muscles clutched at his cock. “Not going to last,” he put one hand on Stiles ass and lifted him up and back as he sat back on his haunches. 

Stiles was still draped around him, legs around his waist and arms across his back. The angle was different this way, it gave Stiles more control, let Derek drive up and deep. “I can feel your dick in the back of my throat, you freak,” Stiles tried to glare but the scent of arousal was strong enough for Derek to know that he wasn’t actually in pain.

“One day,” Derek assured him, lifted Stiles and then dropped him back down again.

Stiles howled. “Oh my fucking shit this is the fucking best fucking thing I’ve ever fucking...” Derek reacted to the wave of desperation coming off Stiles’ skin. 

He moved deeper, harder, let Stiles lift himself up and set a pace that was punishingly amazing. The bond writhed between them, linking their emotions in a feedback loop of arousal and lust.

“Going to come,” Derek gritted out as he held on to his control by a thread. The moment Stiles leaned in and kissed him once more, this time soft and sweet, Derek snapped.

He came and came until he thought he was going to pass out. Stiles slumped against him, gasping into his skin as he came too. Derek held on to Stiles as the only solid thing in his world, and Stiles clung to Derek in much the same way. 

The bond curled around them in shades of moonlight and sunlight, twining around arms and legs and pushing into skin and bone. 

Derek never wanted to move again.

****

Stiles winced a little as Derek pulled out. “Ow,” he whined.

“It’s not sore,” Derek said, rolling off the bed and going to the bathroom.

“It’s _my_ ass!” Stiles yelled after him. “I’m way better qualified to say whether it hurts or not.”

Derek came back out a moment later, rubbing a washcloth over his chest and dick. Stiles didn’t even try to hide the avaricious light in his eyes. “You smell like sex and confidence,” Derek threw the cloth at Stiles with pinpoint accuracy and it landed on Stiles’ face.

“Ugh, you suck,” Stiles made a half-hearted attempt to clean himself up. “Cheating with the smelling thing. I think I may have mentioned before how fucking creepy that is?” He tossed the cloth back at Derek. It fell on the floor halfway between them.

Derek just raised an eyebrow. “I _do_ suck,” he nodded as he came back to the bed. “In fact, I know that you can give me a glowing recommendation for sucking.” He crawled up over Stiles who glared up at him.

“Ha ha.” Stiles shook his head. “You don’t get to brag about that, you dick.” 

“I get to tell the world about it if I want to,” Derek said, voice dry as sawdust.

“But I’m your mate, and you need to respect me,” Stiles was completely sure that this was how things were done.

“We are truly mated now,” Derek rubbed his face against Stiles neck, and he just knew that was going to leave him with beard-burn he’d be too embarrassed to explain. “The bond will tell me if I haven’t truly satisfied you.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “That sounds suspiciously sexist…speciest. Who says _I’m_ not the one who satisfies _you_?”

Derek just looked confused. “Of course you satisfied me.” He went back to rubbing his barbed-wire face all over Stiles’ skin. “You’re dripping with how much you satisfied me.”

“Ugh!” Stiles shoved at Derek who didn’t budge. “Not cool, dude.”

Derek looked even more confused when he lifted his head this time. “I don’t understand what the problem is, Stiles.”

Stiles flailed around as best he could while being held in place by a two million pound werewolf. “Guys don’t talk about shit like that!” He felt like he was going to have an aneurism. “Besides, who says next time it’s not going to be _my_ come in your ass?” He knew he was blushing, and seriously, after everything they’d just done, that was just dumb.

“Okay,” Derek said agreeably.

“Okay what?” Stiles needed things spelled out. All t’s dotted and i’s crossed. Or something.

“Next time you can come inside me,” Derek said and went to sleep.

Stiles glared at him futilely for several minutes as though he could set fire to him with his eyeballs. His dick was exhausted but just the thought of being inside Derek, fucking him and …. Stiles was _never_ going to sleep again.

Derek was a complete **asshole**. 

****

Derek was also a moron who left his credit card lying around just asking for crimes to be perpetrated against him. Stiles ordered four large pizzas, making sure that every one of them had anchovies on them so that Derek wouldn’t eat them. That would teach Derek to mess with the Stiles.

His phone rang at the same time as the doorbell. He answered it, opening the door. “Yo, Scott, my man.” The delivery dude waited for his tip, and then Stiles and his pizzas were alone together. 

“What are you doing?” Scott asked almost hesitantly.

Stiles was tempted to tell him that they were in the middle of hot werewolf sex, but he decided to take pity on him. “Eating pizza,” he said around a mouthful of the first delicious slice. 

He was **starving**. 

Because he’d had **SEX**. 

With **DEREK**. 

“Man, I could go for some pizza right now,” Scott moaned.

“Sorry, man, Derek and I are doing the mate-bonding thing, and I’m sure that the next round is going to start up again as soon as we get our strength back.” Stiles waited. Scott never disappointed.

“Nooo,” Scott whined into the phone. “I’m gonna need brain bleach!”

Stiles grinned and started on the next slice. Anchovies, gotta love them, he thought. And then grimaced. Perhaps anchovies with pineapple and bacon hadn’t been the best choice. “Sex is awesome, dude,” he relished the telling. “I now know _exactly_ why you and Allison spend so much time doing it.”

“Shut the fuck up, man!” Scott howled. “I don’t want to know about your fucking sex life!”

Stiles thought for a second. “Hey, talk about knowing, did anyone feel anything through the pack bond?”

Scott sounded suspicious. “Like what?” he asked.

“Well, like lots of orgasms and nirvana and a very happy wolfboy?” Stiles snorted a laugh at Scott’s even more pathetic moan.

“I hate so you much,” Scott told him.

“So, brother from another mother, did any of the wolf kids or, god forbid, the parentals, get a whiff of the sex Derek and I were having? Multiple times?”

“No,” Scott abruptly ended the call, and Stiles sat on the counter in Derek’s kitchen, grinning to himself. His ass hurt a little, reminding him of what had happened. It was a bearable sort of ache. Stiles could deal.

“Pizza?” Derek shuffled into the room and sniffed the air. His lips thinned. “Anchovies.” He leveled a patented Alpha glare at Stiles. “That’s really mature of you, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded and ate another slice. “I’m a genius,” he agreed around the pizza.

Derek looked at the pineapple, bacon and anchovy monstrosity and then at Stiles. “Well you’re going to eat every last piece then, aren’t you?” His voice was bland. Stiles knew better.

“Of course I am, but I’m totally willing to share with you, baby.” He lifted a box towards Derek, enjoying the lip curl of distaste.

“Every slice,” Derek warned him and went to the fridge. “And don’t call me baby.” Stiles was a little disgruntled to see the takeaway cartons of Chinese there. It meant that his awesome plan wasn’t quite as awesome as he’d thought it was. 

He looked down at the pizza stack. It also meant that he’d better eat every piece of pizza or Derek would most likely shove it up an extremely sensitive orifice. Said orifice gave a little twinge. This was going to hurt.

Half an hour later he thought that he might actually puke.

Derek just leaned up against the kitchen counter and watched as he forced another slice down. “Dude,” Stiles tried the Scott Puppy Eyes, “I’m dying.”

“No you’re not,” Derek said with a smirk. “Eat.”

“I’m going to visit Alphaville and swap you for a better mate.” Stiles swallowed over the slimy texture of pineapple and anchovies. 

“That will teach you to play nice,” Derek said pleasantly.

“Worst mate ever,” Stiles grumbled.

“I’m crushed,” Derek agreed.

“I think cheese and garlic are actually oozing out of my pores right now,” Stiles sniffed at his skin.

“And anchovies,” Derek curled his lip again. “There will definitely be no more sex for the next few days.”

Stiles gaped. “But this is your fault!” he waved at the now empty boxes. “You made me eat it all!” His stomach protested the vigorous movement. He _was_ going to hurl.

“Sometimes you have to suffer in order to grow,” Derek smirked.

“Werewolves are the actual _worst_!” Stiles seethed. 

****

Now is Egg’actly the Time

Derek waited for the shit to hit the fan. It always did.

Every time things seemed settled, looked calm, something else would crop up to fuck everything up all over again.

Nothing happened.

Then, a week after he and Stiles had slept together, Nakakem disappeared.

Stiles raced around the woods, calling for her, and was utterly inconsolable. Derek felt the same way. The little dragon had been the catalyst that had brought his mate to him, and her departure left a gaping wound in the pack.

Stiles sniffled into his neck that first night. “She said she wasn’t going to leave.”

“No she didn’t,” Derek squeezed him. “She said she wouldn’t leave right away. She didn’t. We had an entire week with her, and we should just be grateful.”

“Well I don’t feel fucking grateful,” Stiles was obviously gearing for a full on strop. “Nature sucks cold monkey balls.”

“Your turn of phrase continues to amaze me,” Derek kissed the top of his head. Unhappiness was seeping through the bond from Stiles. 

“I hate losing things and people that matter to me,” Stiles confessed, face still hiding against Derek’s neck.

“That’s life, Stiles.” Derek didn’t mean to sound fatalistic, but the reality was, people died. Friends left. Shit changed.

“Thanks so much for that completely unhelpful pep talk,” Stiles lifted his head and scowled. “You should be a motivational speaker.”

“Ah, sarcasm, how I’ve missed you,” Derek shoved Stiles down again. “Try to get some sleep.”

“Can’t we fool around a little?” Stiles sounded hopeful. “It would cheer me up.”

Derek shook his head. “We are in your house with your father a couple of doors down, Stiles.” He rubbed a hand down Stiles’ back. “As far as he is concerned, we’re in here writing each other bad poetry.”

The little hiccupping laugh that snuck out of Stiles’ startled mouth gave Derek a warm buzz of joy. “Look at you,” Stiles crooned and patted his cheek. “Making jokes just like a real boy.”

“I told you I was funny,” Derek reminded him.

“Just for the record, my dad knows that we’ve been…and let me use the word he used…intimate.” Stiles’ face still looked vaguely traumatized at the memory. “My favorite part of that particular conversation was him asking if we’d been safe.”

Derek shuddered. “I got the same question from Peter.” He frowned. “Although I think he was hoping for more details from me than a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Stiles gave his own little shudder. “Dude, your uncle is the creepiest.”

Derek silently agreed with him. 

“Thanks,” Stiles whispered a moment later.

“What for?” Derek tried to remember what he’d said that would warrant gratitude.

“For not giving me shit about being all girly and teary-eyed about Nakakem,” Stiles explained.

Derek tipped Stiles’ chin up and pressed a warm kiss on his mouth. “I miss her too,” he said.

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed and snuggled in closer. “It was fun having a dragon, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “Dragons are seriously cool.” 

****  
Melissa went out with John on Fridays, Chris on Saturdays and picnicked with Peter on Sundays. Stiles was even more freaked out than Scott. 

Well, okay, no-one could possibly be more freaked out than Scott, but Stiles was a close second. Or maybe third, after Allison.

Basically the entire pack was in a state of high crazy with the weird foursome that was happening in front of them. 

Apart from Boyd. Boyd just didn’t give a shit. Probably because he had no soul. Stiles still had to prove that.

When Stiles had broached the subject with Derek, hoping to get him to intervene in the complete insanity that was Melissa McCall’s love-life, Derek had told him no in no uncertain terms. Seriously, there had been spreadsheets and diagrams.

Scott spent a lot of time hiding in his closet, weeping and gnashing his teeth. It got worse when his mom assured him that she wasn’t sleeping with _all_ of them. Stiles realized that meant she was sleeping with at least _one_ of them, and while he was always wanting his dad to win at everything, this was a war he really wanted his dad to lose.

Despite all of this, Stiles was happy. Happy in a way that usually meant the end of the world or at least the opening of a Hellmouth. But nothing happened. No supernatural enemies came to fuck with them. No deaths or grievous bodily harm of any kind. It was scarily normal.

If normal included six friends who turned furry once a month. And one who knew how to break every bone in your body in one minute flat. And a best girl who could cut your heart in two with one precise sentence. Yeah, normal was great.

Plus, sex with Derek on a regular basis which was the best thing ever. He wasn’t bad at being a boyfriend either. 

Yeah, Stiles was happy, and life was good. 

Until he tripped over another egg in the woods one training day.

“Oh shit,” he whimpered. “This can’t be happening again.”

 

**THE END…or is it?**


End file.
